House of W
by ShoshanaFlower
Summary: After Avengers Disassembled, Wanda tries to find some solace living in obscurity. Things are uninterrupted until an improbable past connection arrives. [A low fat House of M alternative.]
1. Chapter 1 ReCreation Part I

House of W:

Re-Creation

Part I

(Author's Preface: There are a few things you should know before continuing. This is my idea of what should have happened after Avengers Disassembled. In this story, House of M never happened. In fact, nothing so dramatic happened at all. I might have a prequel to this story up sometime to explain what did happen in the three years between the last issue of The Avengers and Excalibur issue #14 and the beginning of this story. Until that point, though, just be aware that Wanda is semi-sane, has all of her memory in tact, and House of M doesn't exist. Rated R so I don't have to worry about ratings. Thank you for reading.)

Philadelphia, P.A.

1 year, 3 months after "Avengers Disassembled."

It was the kind of dream that gave your body the sensation of falling. So that even as you woke, your entire body tensed, expecting to meet the ground as soon as you opened your eyes.

Wanda started to consciousness, realizing that she was in her own bed. The window to her left leaked icy, winter air throughout her small apartment bedroom. It, along with the cracked door, water worn ceiling, dry-rotted walls, and leaking pipes, needed to be fixed. Wanda ignored it all. She paid too much for the apartment every month to do her own repairs.

The split level apartment was the best she could afford, unfortunately. And even that was becoming a steep monthly payment. Her savings were vanishing with unsettling speed, and she didn't have a job. Wasn't it funny how a career of defending humanity left one with no valued work skills? Unless she chose to work as a waitress (with no former employment record), she was out of options. Temporarily.

The former Scarlet Witch wrapped her worn blanket around her shoulders and stepped out of her bedroom and into the lower level of her apartment. Though she could, once again, keep her horrible powers in check, any further control escaped her. The years of work she'd gone through to gain control over her powers had been in vain.

Dr. Strange hadn't wanted to let her go. He'd tried to reason with her to stay in Genosha, where things were safe for her. Where he could continue to help her. No one could really stop her, though. Especially when Magneto, though he did not want her to leave either, told Stephen to stand aside. She left, taking what money her father would not let her go without, and found this hole; this old, worthless apartment building to live in.

Stephen knew where she lived, and he came to see her at least once a week. He still tried to talk to her. It made Wanda feel like a last-effort project of his. One more experiment he hoped wouldn't fail.

So many people trying to keep her alive, she thought. Dr. Strange, Pietro, Magneto, Xavier. Even some of the Avengers, she knew, still wanted her to survive. As for Wanda, she had neither will to live or die. Pietro would be hurt. If she died, he would mourn her, and that was one thing that still pained her to think about. She didn't want to hurt him. He'd estranged all of his other friends and family so that she was all he had left. Like always, they were each all the other had.

---

From his perch atop the building across the street, the former Terrible Toad King watched the downcast form of Wanda Maximoff emerge from her graffiti-painted sanctuary. He watched her walk down the sidewalk and around the building's corner until she left his range of sight. He'd watched her for two days so far. She was nothing but a shadow of the Scarlet Witch he'd known. Just Wanda's body walking around without her soul. Like what had happened to her robot husband. Still, he watched her.

Toad hopped off of the ledge and back onto the roof. He'd really only come to see if his information was correct: that Wanda was living in Philadelphia. And now he knew she was. So now he could go.

He looked to the roof -her roof- across from him, made a standing leap to it, and followed her from a careful distance up above.

---

Wanda came to the broad steps of the art museum. She went there, sometimes, because the air seemed clearer. The overcast sky was quiet, but the silence was sharply broken. Wanda looked up at the sound of skidding sneakers and shouts. She saw what looked like a small gang chasing a lone hooded figure, who was running right toward her. Before she had time to move, the figure jumped over her head and landed on the steps behind her. Wanda turned again, wide-eyed, and looked at the man now bounding up the steps, a flight at a time.

The man's pursuers were fast after him, and two of them brushed Wanda to the ground as they ran past her. Unfazed by her fall, she continued to watch from the ground as the mutant jumped onto one of the museum's pillars and crawled up to safety in the eaves.

Museum security was already running outside to quell the disturbance, and Wanda wasn't sure if she should approach the scene or leave. She strained her eyes against the translucent grey sky and searched for the mutant she'd recognized as Toad. She saw his crouching form slip up to the roof and disappear beyond it. She looked back to the top of the steps. The small mob was already being contained. Like Toad, she took advantage of the chaos and left unnoticed.

Walking as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself, Wanda followed the line of rooftops, looking for a sight of her former ally. Why was he in Philadelphia?

After only a moment of chasing after him, she could already feel the strain from months of inactivity. Her breath was short and her muscles tired from the short amount of running she'd done. Wanda cursed herself for having neglected her physical well-being for so long, and momentarily wished for her brother.

After passing four or five buildings, she glanced down an alley to see the same hooded man leap down from a rooftop and land on a strip of handicap railing.

"Toad!" She called loud enough for him to hear as she laboriously closed the few yards between them. The man, still delicately perched on top of a the rail, jumped up, turned, and landed on the railing in one movement. By that time, Wanda was close enough to see him clearly. He looked different. He'd improved with time, while she'd deteriorated.

Wanda didn't want him to see her gasping for breath so pathetically, but her curiosity overcame her. "Toad, what are you doing here?"

Toad blinked at her and opened his mouth. "Me? Where'd you come from's more like it"

Wanda stood, cheeks flushed from running. "I'm here because I was in the middle of your street fight."

Toad shrugged and knelt back down on the rail. "Oh. That?"

"Why are you here? Who sent you after me?"

"What makes you think someone had to send me? And what makes you think I'm here because of you? You ran after me." Toad jumped down from the rail and stood facing her.

"Then what are you here for?" Wanda's voice was less demanding than he'd remembered it.

"Just looking for a decent cheese steak."

Silence.

"Will you get over yourself, witch? What makes you think anyone's here to bring you back? You can do whatever you want. Stay here and die for all I care." Toad watched her eyes and, for an instant, he thought he saw a spark of anger in them. But if it was there, it quickly faded.

Wanda looked away and put her hand to her head. "I have to go." She began to walk away.

That was not the reaction the Toad had planned on. "Witch," he called after her.

But Wanda didn't turn around. Her old anger had vanished, along with everything else. 'Fine,' he thought, 'then, I was right. She's not who she was.'

Wanda kept walking away from him, though. Old obsessions must die hard, because no matter how he tried to think of all the torment and rejection she'd put him through, he couldn't let that happen.

"Witch," he repeated under his breath and ran after her.

"What are you doing out here?" he said when he'd caught up to her. Wanda didn't acknowledge him. "Your father has his own country, and you're living in the ghetto?"

She still gave no response. Toad moved in front of her, and Wanda stopped walking.

"What do you want, Toad? Why won't you let me be? You just said I could die for all you cared. Leave me alone. Please."

Toad felt himself at a complete loss for words or even thought. He was staring into Wanda's face; her hair, her mouth, her eyes. But she wasn't there. She didn't fight back against his insults; she wouldn't even yell at him. Something just wasn't right with the universe if the Scarlet Witch wasn't in it.

"I want . . . I want . . . you to be the way you were."

Wanda dropped her eyes and didn't respond.

Something was seriously wrong. Toad sensed it. Well, of course something was wrong. She blew away her teammates and lost her sanity. Possibly in reverse order. But there was something scary going on, and although Toad couldn't name it, there was something bad about to happen to her.

Once again, Wanda, not looking at him, walked past him.

"Wait," he said, "I ... I don't have a place to stay."

She ignored him.

"Is there anywhere I can go, so I won't be on the streets? Just for a night?"

Wanda paused and brushed her hair back. "I don't know."

Toad took a breath. "Can I ... stay with you, for just a little bit? I won't bother you. Just for tonight?"

Passively, Wanda looked back at him. Indifferent as she felt, she still knew the need to acknowledge forces greater than herself. Maybe it was a sign: One last chance for penitence? "Fine," she said. "Come with me."

As Wanda made her way back to her apartment, Toad followed her. Down several blocks, to her building's entrance, and right to her door. Though he knew the way, the journey was almost surreal. The entire way, he watched the clouded sunlight on her hair. It was duller than he remembered it, but still dark and curling. Her step was far less graceful than it had been, years ago, he noticed. Even from the back she looked tired. Or maybe just old.

And why was he following her again? He wondered at his own actions. His former infatuation was gone, but he still couldn't seem to leave Wanda alone. Especially when something was so ... different. So wrong. Something was definitely wrong, though he couldn't determine why he should care. Her life didn't affect him now, so it really shouldn't matter what happened to her.

Even so, when she held the door open for him, he accepted and went in.


	2. Chapter 2: ReCreation Part II

House of W

Re-Creation

Part II

Her house was nothing to write home about. As though Mortimer had a home to write back to concerning his former obsession's domicile. Wanda closed the door behind them and continued in to the modest living room.

She half-shrugged. "Here it is. I'm afraid the couch is the best I can offer you as a bed."

Toad couldn't think of anything to say. He'd never imagined himself in his current situation. The barely-welcomed guest of a person barely fitting Wanda Maximoff's description, in a room that could barely be called livable. Aside from the couch, the room offered one unsteady-looking chair and a coffee table. No pictures, no books, not even a rug.

"Thanks."

"I don't really have any food, but you're welcomed to whatever you want here."

She always did have her manners at her command, Mort noted. When all else failed, she could still be polite - even to a raging enemy. That's what made her so graceful. One of the things, anyway. Her smooth speech, even when angry. At least she still seemed to have that. At the moment, however, she seemed to be at an awkward loss for words. It was an unprecedented situation.

"Thanks," he said again. Wanda looked away and excused herself to her room, down the hallway.

Toad looked around again and wondered what was next. Maybe she really wasn't so bad off. He didn't need to be here. And even if she was in some kind of trouble, why was it any of his concern? Why should he stop her from wrecking what was left of her salvaged life? He owed nothing.

Undecided as to whether he should slip away now or stay, he moved to the window and looked out. They were on the first story, so he had a view of the lawn, which consisted of dirt and weeds, the street, and the graffiti on the wall across the street. Standing close to the window, he felt the chill seep in from outside. The room he was in had seemed rather cold, but then, he was usually cold.

He tried to step toward the door, but he didn't move. He decided to stay for the time being. In truth, he really didn't have a place to stay, so this was as good as anything. And he could leave any time.

- - -

Toad slept on the sofa that night. Wanda had offered him a blanket, and he propped one of the cushions up as a pillow. It was early when he woke, he judged by the dim morning sunlight. Wanda didn't appear to be up yet, so he folded the blanket and went out on the little concrete slab that served as a back porch.

From there, he could see the neighbor's porch to his right. A blond little girl was standing there, while her mother brushed her hair.

"Hold still, please. We're going to be late if I have to do this again," the mother said, pulling her daughter's hair into a sloppy ponytail.

Mort looked away. For the thirtieth time since yesterday afternoon, he asked himself why he was there. In this house, in this city. Even in this country.

He'd come to see the Scarlet Witch. To substantiate what he'd heard and to see for himself what had become of her. He'd done a lot of research on her. He'd been to Genosha and stolen information there. Apparently, he'd been seriously out of the loop. Wanda's kids were products of her mind and a secondary mutation that allowed her to warp reality.

Word of the Avengers' destruction had reached Mort, and that's when he first began looking into her life since he'd last seen her. He thought she might have been killed, but it turned out she'd simply disappeared. No memorial was made in her honor, so she hadn't died in the attack. But there was no word of her at all.

Of course, he'd found out she was on Genosha with dear old dad and Xavier. From there he'd learned that she'd lost her connection to reality, preferring her own version, and that her games with reality had been the destruction behind the Avengers.

He had a hard time believing that Wanda was capable of destroying her team, either by power or personality. Or that she had lost her mind. She'd seemed sane enough last time he'd seen her. But it was true. His once gentle Wanda had killed off her friends in a highly destructive manner.

So while he'd developed further mutations, and a less ugly appearance, Wanda had lost her children, husband, teammates, and her grasp on the real world.

So what now, he asked himself. He could go on his way, but then what? He'd sit around and wonder what happened to her. He'd have to check back every now and then to see if she was still alive, and what she was doing. Wanda had been the plague of his life for too long. His obsession with her had brought him misery. And she hadn't wanted him at all.

- - -

When Wanda came into the living room and saw no sign of Toad but the folded blanket and his shoulder bag, she wondered if she'd imagined him yesterday. But before she could think any further, the sliding glass door opened and in he came. He wasn't looking at her, though. He was looking at the door, trying to pull it closed.

"It always does that," Wanda explained.

Toad had gone back inside intent on getting his bag and leaving. He wanted to leave without Wanda knowing, but he wasn't going to stay just because she was here. He pulled the door into place and looked at his bag. "Thanks for letting me stay here tonight. Er, last night."

"Oh, you're welcome. Did you have any breakfast this morning?"

"Not big on breakfast, personally."

"Oh."

"Guess I'll head out then." Shouldering his bag, he told himself, _'you have to leave, you have to leave.'_

"Are you sure you wouldn't like anything to eat before you go? Or something to drink?"

He was hungry. He had plenty of American money to buy food, though. _'You've got to leave. If you don't leave now, you'll never be free of her. Get out before you loose your nerve.'_

"Or anything for the road?"

She was being so kind again. But that's what she did. Made him think she actually liked him when she didn't. He looked away from the door and back to her. She was holding onto the cuff of her sleeve like it was blanket, and she the fretful owner. He'd lost years of his life to her, but there was something comforting in old habits, wasn't there?

"Well, I guess a little coffee wouldn't hurt," he conceded.

"I only have tea."

"Even better."

He followed her into the kitchen, where she put the kettle on the stove and set up two cups with tea bags.

"Where are you going now?" Wanda asked him, leaning against the counter.

"What? Oh."He hadn't thought of that. "Back to England, I guess."

"What did you really come here for?"

He half shrugged. "I came to see you. Well, to see if you were here."

"Why?"

'_Because I have a bloody obsession with you, in case you hadn't noticed.' _But he only said, "Because I heard rumors and I wanted to see if they were true." When he saw Wanda's eyes widen fearfully, he added, "Not rumors, actually. I had to search for the information."

"Who else knows I'm here? No one but Dr. Strange is supposed to know."

"Well, it's Dr. Strange and The Toad now. Really, I had to look very hard to find out where you were. I wanted to make sure you weren't dead."

Wanda didn't seem any more comforted. She looked on the verge of panic.

"Here, water's ready," Toad said, moving past her to turn off the kettle. He couldn't remember Wanda being so disquieted. Maybe she really wasn't mentally sound anymore. "I didn't tell anyone where you are. And I won't. So stop worrying."

"I'm -"

"Here." He set a cup of tea in front of her, and they drank in silence. When Toad finished, he reluctantly picked up his bag again. "Guess I'll be going, then." Wanda made no objection, only a slight nod, so he trudged over to the front door. He looked back at her and saw her looking back at him. Uninterested. As always.

Wanda didn't say anything as she watched him slowly leave and close the door behind him. She wondered if tomorrow she'd come to doubt the actuality of Toad's short visit. Maybe. She thought about whether or not she should tell Stephen. Probably not. With nothing to do for the rest of the day, she looked into her dark cup of tea and entertained herself by watching the patterns that the milk made in it.

- - -

The hour hand of the little clock reached one o'clock. Her entire morning had slipped away from her again. And why was she just sitting here? The past few weeks, she'd been telling Stephen that if she was going to be alive, she wanted to live. She didn't want to spend the rest of the life that was forced on her in a mental hospital on anti-psychotic drugs. Yet here she was, no more alive and little more in control of her life than when she had been in Genosha.

She remembered seeing a 'help wanted' sign in the window of a restaurant she'd passed yesterday on her way to the museum. The job would be nothing to boast about, but it would be something. Something to keep her from asking her father or Dr. Strange for help. Something for her to wake up for in the mornings.

Wanda went to the bathroom and looked at her reflection in the tiny mirror. Once she'd brushed her hair and washed her face, she scrutinized her appearance. Did she look sane? What would be a good name to give her prospective employers? And her history? She could attribute her lack of former jobs to being a housewife or something of the nature. She could be recently divorced. That might be believable.

Perfecting her plan as she went, she found her purse and went out.

- - -

Toad looked at her front door from the rooftop across the street. Again.

Groaning to himself, he painfully admitted defeat at the unknowing hands of Wanda Maximoff. He'd tried to leave twice so far, making at as far as the subway station once, but he couldn't bring himself to get on. So he'd ended up back here again.

He'd been in the same situation in the past; waiting to see her, and feeling what he'd thought was lovesickness. Now he wasn't sure what it was he felt, but he was miserable. He couldn't leave. He couldn't leave her. After all these years, he still couldn't leave her. He'd been doing so well without her for the past few years. He thought for himself now. He made his own decisions - uninfluenced by anyone else. But now here he was again, wrapped around Wanda's finger.

He shouldn't have stayed for tea. That must have been what did him in. No, prior to that even, he shouldn't have come to see her. If he'd just stayed hidden away in England, none of this would have happened. He might still be a free man instead of being stuck up on a rooftop in March with the freezing wind blowing against him.

Fuck the freezing wind, he thought. If he was going to be ridiculous about this whole thing, he might as well go all the way.

- - -

Toad stood on the doorstep, waiting for the door to open. He knew she was home because he'd seen her go back inside about a half hour earlier. He had no idea what he'd say, but he surmised that he couldn't ruin what he didn't have.

His heart went rigid when he heard footsteps. After a pause, the door opened, and there she stood, looking only somewhat surprised.

"Uh, I ... I was wondering ..." He should have rehearsed. "Could I - would you want ..."

"Come in, Mortimer."

Stunned, he entered her apartment once again. She hardly ever called him by his given name. And her reaction was so ... calm. So knowing. Why was she just letting him in?

"Do you want to stay here for a while longer?"

"Yes." His answer came out before he could think about it. Yes, I want to stay here with you.

"I'll be gone for the day tomorrow. I have a job. But you're welcome to stay."

"Thank you. Are - are you sure that's all right?"

"Yes, I think so."

Mortimer closed the door behind him.

* * *

Author's Note:

I want to clarify a few things about Toad's features. He's been undergoing a few changes in the comics, largely thanks to the movie. I expect that what has not been added to the comic book character from the movie version will be added soon. So, in addition to the tongue and leaner appearance, I'm also allowing the webbed, sticky hands and the kick-boxing skills.

My truly heartfelt thanks goes out to Pateetchka. She has helped me with this story for so long (I have another fifty some chapters to add). She is a faithful reader and editor. I don't know what would have become of this story in a couple places where I was completely lost, had Pateetchka not come to my rescue. She is the Yomiko to my Nenene.

You are the best, my _old friend_. : nudge-wink :


	3. Chapter 3: ReCreation Part III

House of W

Re-Creation

Part III

Two Days Later

Before she opened the door she realized something had changed. The door handle wasn't loose in her hand. Wanda readjusted her grip on it, opened it, and went inside. Setting her purse by the door, she turned to close and lock it.

That was when she noticed the second new thing. The lock worked without having to kick it into the doorjamb. Her first thought was that Toad must have fixed it. She looked closer. The vertical crack running through the middle of the door had been sealed as well.

"Toad?" She turned around and called, but heard no movement or response. Wanda walked to the end of the hallway and glanced down its length. The bathroom and her bedroom door both stood open and undisturbed. He wasn't in the kitchen either.

Thinking that he'd probably gone out, she stepped up into the hallway and went to her room. She took her shoes off at her bed and let down her hair. It smelled like grease. So did her uniform. So did her skin. Her body ached, and she wanted little more than to go to sleep, early as it was. But she left her room and went to turn on the shower in the bathroom.

The water had not turned warm before she heard the front door open and close again. Toad, she knew. She'd given him her spare key before she left that morning. She reached into the shower and let the water run over her hand. Still cold. As soon as it turned lukewarm she'd get in and start washing away the smell of fried food.

The floorboards in the hall creaked. Wanda sighed. She just wanted a few moments of peace in the shower.

"Wanda?" Toad's timid voice came through the bathroom door. "Have you eaten?"

"No," she replied, drying her hand on her uniform.

"Want me to make somethin'?"

"Go ahead." She listened to the loose floorboards warp under his weight as he headed back to the kitchen. Wanda held her fingers under the running water again. Satisfied with the temperature, she shelled herself of her clothes and stepped under the shower head. Pulling the curtain closed, she let the water work her hair out of its ragged formation. Water that was hot enough to produce steam would have been nice. But for the moment, she welcomed just the massaging spray.

- - -

When Wanda opened the bathroom door, she was confronted with the burning smell of the stove. It needed to be cleaned, but she had used it once since she'd moved in. Wrapped in a fraying towel and carrying her filthy clothes in her arms, Wanda went to her bedroom to dress. It was ten degrees colder in her room than the rest of the house, as her window still didn't close properly. She dressed quickly and went out to the living room with a book that a co-worker had given her. She turned the light switch on and, surprised, looked up. The light fixture had both bulbs instead of one.

"You replaced the bulb?" she said to the kitchen.

"Yeah, while you were out." Toad replied.

Wanda walked into the kitchen. "I noticed the door, as well," she said.

"Yeah, only took a minute or so."

"Thank you."

"S' no big deal."

Wanda went back to the living room and sat down in the metal folding chair with her book. If nothing else, her life was routine. If it lacked bells and whistles, she at least knew it was real. If she still felt its pain, then she knew she was awake.

The smell of food began to overpower the smell of the burning food particles left in the stove. Of course, she acknowledged, glancing over to the bills on the table, routine didn't mean stability. Wanda had started to believe that stability was an unreal thing. Places changed, morals changed, people changed and died. If none of these could be counted on, what then was stability comprised of?

Wanda shook her head. She needed to stop puzzling over the mysteries of the universe. She'd only lead herself into confusion or depression. She opened her book. It was no good to think too deeply about issues she didn't understand. And she had to admit she didn't understand a lot of what she once thought she understood. So for now, all she could do was live each day as it came to her. Maybe, after a while, she'd be able to think about things again, and even work a few things out. But at this moment, she had a house, a roommate, a job, and food.

Well, at least she had a house for a little while longer. Wanda looked again at the bills. They were still neatly sealed in their envelopes. Of course, things might not be so bad with Toad living with her. He'd already bought food and lightbulbs. She didn't know where his money came from, but as long as he was willing to share it with her, she didn't ask.

Giving in to temptation, she set her book on the floor and reached for the bills. The rent and utilities opened easily under her fingernail. As expected, the figure was as high as ever.

"Need a bit of help with that?"

Wanda looked over her shoulder at Toad. "I can't afford this apartment much longer," she said.

Toad set the serving plate down on the coffee table. "I'm more than willing to pull my own weight. I'll pay you rent."

"I suppose."

"How's your job?"

"It's ... a job. It's not very bad." Wanda took a roll of bills from her pocket. "It's a busy place; I made $60 in tips my second day."

"That's not too bad."

"No, it's not. I think this might work out."

"You should eat this before it gets cold," he said.

Wanda set the stack of letters on top of her book and sat down to the table on the floor.

Surprisingly, Mortimer could actually cook.

- - -

Today Dr. Strange made his way from his sanctum in New York to Wanda Maximoff's small apartment in Philadelphia. Since the day she'd come out of her cloud of misery on Genosha and moved back to the United States, Dr. Strange had made a point of checking in on her as often as she would allow. It had been against his wishes to let her leave Genosha and live on her own, but he'd little choice or say in the matter once Magneto made his decision.

On such visits as the one he made today, Stephen tried to get as much information from Wanda as possible. Did she still have flashbacks? Were her nightmares still so vivid? How often did she make it through the day without shutting herself in her room to cry? His job was not easy. Wanda, if she didn't ignore him outright, often avoided his questions or changed the subject. She had yet to bring up the subject of her former children or the Avengers, and Stephen knew better than to ask.

To his concern, he hadn't seen her for more than two weeks, due to the unpredictable nature of defending the universe against any mystic threats. On his way there, his mind wandered incessantly to the little apartment and to what Wanda might be doing. In his darker thoughts, there was always the premonition that he would someday find her body in the bathroom with her wrists cut open. When things didn't get better, they got worse, and things were not getting better with Wanda.

In his youth, if he had a patient he could not cure, it didn't bother him. If Dr. Strange couldn't help someone, help was beyond the scope of human technology. Now, however, he felt the same feelings no healer could ignore. His broken patient seemed beyond all hope of recovery. The youthful, proud Wanda Maximoff had somewhere disappeared, leaving behind a lifeless doll. As he walked down her street, he knew that the greatest reason he still came to see her every week was to see whether he'd find her bleeding in the bathtub or hanging from the ceiling.

Cloaked in an illusion of normality, Dr. Stephen Strange passed several of the city's poorest on his way up to Wanda's apartment. It was to his immeasurable surprise that someone else answered the door, and it was someone he knew at that. Mortimer Toynbee: The Toad.

"I take it you're Doctor Strange?" he said.

"I am ... Is Wanda here?" Scores of possible scenarios concerning the presence of Toad were racing through his mind.

"No. She's out. But she said you might stop by, and she told me to let you in. She'll be back soon."

Stephen stepped inside the apartment. "Toad, I'm rather surprised to see you here. I didn't think you and Wanda were on good terms."

Toad glared at him. "What do you mean by that?

"Nothing offensive. Could you tell me where Wanda is?"

Toad looked like he had taken offense. "She's out working." Toad shut the door. Dr. Strange stood by the chair and noticed the folded blanket on the couch.

"I didn't know she had a job."

"Got it a few days ago. She should be back soon."

Wanda arrived shortly, relieving the two of there uncomfortable silence, apologizing for being late. Toad went outside.

- - -

Slowly, Wanda poured the steaming water over the tea bag and into the cup. The water colored instantly. She placed the kettle back on the stove and carried the two small teacups and saucers out to her humble livingroom. Dr. Strange sat on the couch, his composed demeanor demanding more focus than his remarkable attire. Wanda set the nicer of the two cups down in front of him, seating herself on the folding chair.

"You look much better, Wanda. Are you sleeping well?"

"I am, actually. A little better than before."

"Are you still having nightmares?"

"Not every night."

"That's good to hear." Stephen took a sip of his tea and continued, "I'm surprised to find the Toad here, Wanda."

"So was I. But he needed a place to stay. I don't think he means me any harm, so I've been letting him stay. What? You don't think that's wise of me?"

"I can't say that I do. The two of you haven't had the most peaceable of pasts."

"I know that. But those things were a long time ago. We're both a bit different now."

- - -

Later, when Dr. Strange left the apartment, he saw Toad sitting on the wall. He paused and looked up at him. "I don't know what your intentions are, Toad, but for both yours and Wanda's sake, I hope they are good."

Toad scowled at the doctor's back as he walked away. No one ever trusts the Toad. He couldn't possibly be there because he cared for Wanda. No, of course not. He must have some dark, ulterior motive.

Angry, Mort leapt down from the wall and watched the doctor leave, imagining what a good, swift kick would do to his spine. Like the stupid magician really cared about Wanda. He was only interested in keeping her from becoming a threat. If he cared so much, he shouldn't have left her alone with two fake kids in the first place.

Doctors were always such asses.


	4. Chapter 4: ReCreation Part IV

House of W

Re-Creation

Part IV

Wanda had cooked that night. Pasta, simple and cheap. Though Toad lit the hurricane lamp, which gave the room a nice glow (and didn't increase the electric bill).

He reached back to a time when they'd eaten together years ago. In The Brotherhood. She was young then, and beautiful. And so kind to him - or at least he thought so. The only one who was. From the first day he'd met her, he wanted to be her slave. Really. He wanted to stay at her every beck and call and do everything he possibly could for her in hopes of finding some favor in her sight. He wanted to stay close to her, to hear her smooth voice and gentle words.

But he was afraid to be near her, too. Afraid because he worried she might suddenly see how hideous he was and send him away. Or that, worse, she might start to taunt him like the others did. Or worse yet, that he'd see her one day and notice a look of disgust streak her face before she politely hid it from him. It tore him, to want so much to be near her, yet fear her repulsion so much. Some days he would stand away for an hour or more before deciding wether to go be near her or stay away from her. She became his primary thought. What would she think if he did this? Might she be pleased if he did that? Would he see her today? Would she speak to him today? What would he say to her if she did?

He memorized her. Occasionally, when he found the nerve, he would watch her secretly. She liked to stay outdoors when she could, and that was usually where he'd see her. He'd find some hidden place to watch her from, making up dialogue in his head. He'd envision himself walking up to her and saying hello. Sometimes, in his fantasies, she'd say hello in return and smile. Sometimes she'd even ask him to sit with her. Often, the scenes ended with Toad vowing some form of allegiance to her and she accepting.

As time passed, he grew bolder in his mind. He'd tell her how much he could do for her, and how happy she could be with him. Sometimes, she would be pleased and give him the chance to prove himself. He would, and she would be enraptured by his achievements. When he had enough to offer her, he would ask her to marry him. She would be so dazzled by everything he'd have lain out before her, that she would smile, awestruck, and accept.

At first, he taunted himself for thinking of such things, and he'd rewrite the endings with something more probable - Wanda leaning far away from him and trying to politely excuse herself from his presence. But after a while, he stopped thinking that his pretend scenes were so impossible. They became his goals. If he could earn enough for her, she would be able to accept his ugliness and marry him.

What a riot, Toad thought to himself now. She'd wanted a fake man more than him. One who kept getting disassembled and whose memories kept getting wiped. One who's touch wasn't human or mutant. She'd wanted a thing that, given only the knowledge, any real man could recreate. But then she ended up killing him, so who knows where her heart really was.

He looked across the table to her. He was surprised to see that she looked ready to cry. For an instant, he wondered if she'd been able to see his thoughts. But he knew she couldn't.

"Wanda?" he said.

She responded only by crinkling her forehead more and trying to fight back the tears. After a moment, she managed, "I'm sorry..."

This was new to him. Wanda didn't cry. She was the one who kept her head (with notable exceptions) and took charge when everyone else fell into a panic. Now, however, slow, clear tears ran down her cheeks and over her hands when she wiped them away.

"Here, don't cry," he said, "Things are all right. You're doing all right here, with your apartment and job. Don't cry now." Timidly, he got up from his place on the floor and scooted over to her. He didn't touch her, but he tried to be as comforting as possible by just sitting near her.

Head in her hands, she leaned her elbows on the table and her shoulders shook silently. He wanted to put an arm over her shaking back, but he was far too afraid to seriously consider it. He didn't want to gross her out. He just wanted her to stop crying. To stop being sad. He wanted to see the Scarlet Witch that she'd always seemed to him. Strong and graceful and what he'd wanted to make her: happy.

"Here now, Wanda, don't cry. Things can only get better, right? Things won't stay this bad - not for you. You can always make things turn out better." Reverse affect, he realized too late. She took a sharp breath and started weeping harder.

"I'm sorry. Please, don't cry. Don't be sad. What can I do? Is there anything I can do to make things better?"

"No. I've already ruined everything. You can't fix anything."

She was talking about the Avengers, he realized. How should he respond to that? He saw small streams of tears running down her arms. Very slowly, he moved his hand - webbed and slightly slimy - toward her arm. He held his breath, praying to Whomever that she wouldn't jump away from him, and softly touched her arm. She didn't move, so he brushed his fingers on her skin until he had wrapped his fingers around her forearm. Still, she didn't move.

"Don't cry," he said quietly. "Don't be sad, Wanda. If you can't undo it, then it's over, right?"

"It doesn't go away just because it's over!" She finally looked at him, yelling at him. He withdrew his hand immediately.

"I ... I know ..." Damn it. He said the wrong thing. Damn. Damn you, you stupid Toad.

Wanda was crying without reservations now. "They were my friends. My family. The only family I had left." She stopped yelling only because she couldn't speak anymore. Her face shimmered with smeared tears as she cried, seeming not to care that Toad was still there.

"But Wanda ... you didn't mean to. You would never have - never have hurt your friends like that on purpose."

Sobbing, she laid her head on her knees and choked, "Then why did I do it?"

'_This curse,' _he thought. _'Because we were born with this curse.'_

He had a clean rag in his pocket, and he handed it to her. She looked up at him, took it, then wiped her eyes and nose. "Thank you," she said through shaking, but slowing, sobs.

He watched her patiently as she grew calmer, with the patience he'd learned while hiding from his childhood tormentors, the police, and while watching her secretly. Accepting that there was nothing comforting he could say to her, he was still. She was quietly weeping, holding his makeshift handkerchief to her face. She looked like Toad had felt for most of his life. Trapped in his own personal prison. Not only of his body, but his mind as well. He thought Wanda must have felt the same way. A mutation she could hardly control ruled her body, and her tormented mind ruled her soul.

A blaze of anger arose in Toad. It was wrong. They shouldn't have had to live this way. Not he, nor Wanda, nor anyone else. He wanted something to blame, but he couldn't find anything. Humanity, maybe, but that was too vast of a target; he'd learned from experience. Here, Wanda had spent almost her entire life so far with powers she could never fully control, and vicious memories given to her by an uncaring world. They'd both been nothing but little children when people hurt them. Little ones who couldn't protect themselves. No one should do that to children. Their lives were ruined before they'd had a chance to live for themselves.

Wanda was still crying. She was ruined. Everyone had thought so. There was no hope. Spoiled goods. A sad waste of a beautiful woman and great power. Not even the eternal optimist Xavier thought she could be salvaged. Mort had done his homework on the situation. Xavier, Magneto, Strange. They'd agreed to let her out in the real world, but they were really just waiting for her last strand of sanity to untwine. Then ... who knows? They'd put her out of her misery or let her do it for herself.

Bastards.

No one should be left alone like this. No one should be shoved in a room to cry. The same anger burned in him again. They were mistreating her like they'd mistreated her as a child. Just set her aside and go about your business. Nevermind that she's dying alone and in pain.

Toad had no idea how to be comforting to anyone, much less to the shattered Wanda. What had she used to say to him, long ago? What made her seem so kind?

"Here, Wanda," he stood and tentatively held out his gruesome hand. "Let me help you up."

She looked up and held back her tears for a moment, then took his hand. He helped lift her to her feet and then let go. "Come here, let me get you a glass of water and some tea. Come sit down in the kitchen and rest a little."

Wanda let him lead her to the single kitchen chair, where she sat down and watched him fill a glass with water and put some on the stove for tea. He handed her the water. She drank it, and felt the cool water calm her slightly. Her breathing slowed back to a normal rate and she'd stopped crying. Surprised by his actions, she watched him as he took out a tea bag and set it in another cup. He seemed so caring, so suddenly. He could have been disgusted with her and gotten up and left, but oddly he chose to make her tea.

She looked at him, at his changed appearance, and wondered if he was the same Toad she'd angrily defeated in the house in Leona. Had he always had a gentle side? Accepting the cup of tea he held her, she began to wonder what else she might have missed in him.


	5. Chapter 5: ReCreation Part V

Nyltiak, you are too kind to me. Thank you. :)

House of W

Re-Creation

Part V

"_Your mind is my treasure, and if it were broken, it would be my treasure still: if you raved, my arms should confine you, and not a strait waistcoat ..."_

_from _Jane Eyre, _by Charlotte Bronte_

Mort parked the motorcycle, while Wanda went to unlock the door. As she did, she thanked him for driving her home again. He said, "You're welcome," as he watched the little girl next door put the final touches on her chalk mural. Inside, Wanda offered to cook dinner, so Mort occupied his mind by rewiring the kitchen light fixture so it was safe to use.

"Mortimer," she said, "I want to say thank you, for helping me these past weeks. It's really meant a lot to me, to have you here. You've been so kind to me. I ... I don't really know what would have become of me if you hadn't been here to take care of me." Wanda hadn't looked up from the pot she was stirring while she spoke.

Mort froze standing on the chair under the light. He was facing Wanda's back, and saw only her long hair, pinned back away from her face, falling down past her shoulders. What she'd said sounded almost like something from one of his fantasies. He had to wonder if she'd really said that, or if he'd suddenly lost his mind. Could she really appreciate him that much?

Wanda began to feel awkward at his silence. "I hope you don't think that's too forward or silly of me to say ..."

"No," he said quickly. "Not at all. I ... you're welcome."

Wanda turned off the burners and took the food to the table. Mort replaced the light cover and sat down across from her, unable to take his mind off the words she'd just spoken. They ate in silence for a while, before Wanda asked him how it was.

"What?" He looked up as though he hadn't heard her.

"How's the food?"

"Oh. It's excellent, Wanda. It always is." She was looking at him with an odd expression. She seemed almost timid, but looking for something.

"I meant what I said earlier, Mort. I don't think you know how you've helped me. And I don't know why you've helped me. But thank you."

"I'm glad you let me stay," he said. And he added in thought, _'I don't know why I tried to help you either. But I can't believe I almost walked away.'_

They were silent again, until they'd both finished eating and had washed the plates. Wanda then found a seat on the couch, and Mort ventured to sit next to her. She seemed to be thinking for a moment, but then she said, "When I was a little girl, I would sometimes think about the house I'd live in when I was grown up. I never really thought about living outside of the little world I was in, with my adoptive parents and my brother. I just thought I'd grow up, marry someone, and live there forever. I never though I'd be living in a little apartment in Pennsylvania. With the universe's Sorcerer Supreme making house calls, no less."

"And a former teammate turned enemy as a roommate," Mort added.

"No, I'm glad for that. And I'm glad we're not enemies. We never should have been. What brought us to that in the first place?"

"You left the Brotherhood." He left out the part about her getting married.

"Yes, that is where things began to fracture. Pietro and I had to leave that terrible situation. I've often felt so terrible for bringing him into that. I know he only stayed because of me, and I only stayed because I owed my life to Magneto." She paused for a moment and then added, "In more ways than one, I suppose."

"You didn't owe him anything, Wanda. He owed you. He owed you your life."

"I don't want to think of that right now." She rested her head against the back of the couch. "Tell me about your day."

For a moment, it all seemed so commonplace, so domestic to Toad, that he thought they might be two normal people. If someone were to see them sitting there, they would see two people having a conversation after dinner. They could be a perfectly average couple, barely making ends meet, but enjoying the calm moments the were afforded. Moments like now, when Wanda casually asked him about his day, and he responded with the mundane story of what he'd done while she worked. No trace of Avenger, or adventurer, mutant activist, or even mutant.

After sharing their dull day stories, Wanda rose to go to bed. She said goodnight and locked the front door. Mort said he'd turn off the lights. She walked to the hallway, as she always did, but this time she stopped at the little step and looked over her shoulder. She smile at him, and continued down the hall.

- - -

Wanda wrapped the covers around herself as best she could to keep out the cold. It had been such a good day. From her bed, she could see the light from the living room peeking underneath her door. Mort was still awake. She took a sudden, deep breath, when she felt something she did not expect to feel. She sat up. This wasn't right. This wasn't good. Dr. Strange had been right, not wanting her to live with anyone. He'd been right not wanting her to leave Genosha. Now here she was all over again.

When she was watching for the living room light to go out, she realized what she'd been feeling all evening. She liked having Toad here. He was kind to her. They got along well. He made life more bearable. And she'd come to truly enjoy his company. Now, inevitably, something would happen. He'd die or she'd kill him or he'd suddenly hate her and leave. And she'd be left all alone again. But even more alone than before, because every time she lost someone it was worse.

Wanda forced herself to take a few deep breaths, and to hear Stephen's voice again, telling her to breath, and to look at her fears instead of running away and hiding from them. After a moment, she tried to see her situation from someone else's point of view. She was afraid. Yes, that was true. She was afraid of Mort leaving or dying or somehow being gone. Yes, that was true too. Why was she afraid of this?

She didn't know.

No, she did know. Because without him she'd be alone. And because she liked him. She liked being around him. He was so much different now than before ... she probably was too. Well, of course she was. She hadn't been insane back then.

Feeling a little less panicked, she looked again at the light under her door and suddenly hoped it wouldn't go out. Her room would be dark then, and Mort would be asleep and unaware of her. She wanted to get out of bed and go to the living room and make sure he didn't turn it out while she was still awake. It wouldn't help for her to just turn the light in her room on. She didn't want his light to turn off while she would know it.

She knew that when the light did go out, it would be for the simple reason of Mort going to sleep. People needed to sleep. That was true. They needed to save all the electricity they could. That was also true. So it made perfect sense that turning out the light to go to sleep was a completely normal thing.

But she saw the sliver of yellow light, and was so afraid of it going out. Wanda got out of bed, already dressed in her warmest night clothes, and left her room. She walked into the kitchen, took a glass out of the cabinet and filled it with water. Mort appeared in the open doorway.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm just having trouble falling asleep. I'm sorry to bother you."

"It's no bother."

Wanda didn't want him to leave the kitchen. She wanted to ask him to leave the light on, but she knew that would sound ridiculous. Mort must have seen that something was wrong, because he stayed but didn't say anything. "I just ..." she tried to think of something to say so he wouldn't leave. Instead, she found tears welling in her eyes again. "I'm sorry, Mort." She set her glass on the counter and brought a hand up to her eyes. "I'm such a mess."

"Don't be sorry," he said, stepping closer. He even, slowly, put a hand on her shoulder.

In a moment, Wanda found her arms around his shoulders. She rested her head against his neck, and tried to keep her tears off of his shirt. Toad was tense and stiff at first, but returned her hug when his surprise subsided. They stood there for a time until Wanda moved away.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I know I'm being silly. I just don't want to be alone right now."

"Well then, just stay out here. Here, come sit on the sofa and we can watch the snow on T.V." He led her by the hand to the living room, and Wanda sat on the couch as he'd suggested. Mort turned on the television, that he'd recently found and re-created, and found a somewhat clear soap opera on. He unfolded the metal chair and sat down.

Both of them watched it uninterestedly for a while, until Wanda began to nod off. She was curled on her side, with her head on the arm of the sofa. Mort waited until her eyes had been closed for several minutes before he quietly turned off the TV, and carefully draped his blanket over her. She had a calm look on her face - not happy or sad. Even at the end of a long day, she looked beautiful with her hair curled around her face and her perfect skin free of any lines of worry. Mort crept away from her and made a bed on the floor with the other couch pillow and his coat as a blanket. He took one more look at her before he turned out the light and went to sleep, listening to her breathe.

- - -

The next morning, Wanda woke up startled. At first she didn't know where she was and was afraid to move, but she soon recognized the living room and relaxed. She must have fallen asleep while Mort sat up with her. She felt the blanket fall off of her shoulders when she sat up, and wondered where Mortimer had slept. There was no trace of him that she could see.

She stood up, absently folded the blanket, and went to her room. Everything was as she'd left it the night before. Wanda dressed quickly and went back out into the living room. As she did, the front door opened and Toad came in. He carried a half-gallon of milk with him.

"Good morning, Mort," Wanda said.

"Morning," he replied. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, thank you." She thought she should thank him for tucking her in, but she couldn't think of an appropriate way to do so. So she simply thanked him for bringing the milk.

Soon Wanda had to leave for work, and Mort offered to drive her. She didn't like to use the gasoline, but the motorcycle didn't use very much of it, and Mort often said it was safer riding a motorcycle than walking along the roadside. So she accepted and thanked him again. During the ride there, she held closer to him than she usually did. Even though the greater part of last night's fear had subsided, she couldn't shake the fear that Mort would disappear if she didn't do something to keep him.

She recalled stealing a look at the summery Stephan had made of her mental disorders while they were on Genosha. Nihilistic Delusional Disorder was one of them. That is, the anticipation that friends, family, or extensions of the self no longer exist or will soon cease to exist. If only what she felt was as simple as it sounded. With her, it wasn't just a delusion.

When Mort dropped her off, she thanked him again and didn't walk inside right away. He'd pulled the motorcycle up on the sidewalk in front of the little restaurant, and had one foot on the pavement. "Are you going to be all right?" He asked her. Wanda could hear the concern in his voice. "You can take a day off if you need to. Don't worry if they fire you. I have enough money to take care of both of us."

She appreciated his concern. "I'll be fine, Mort. Will you be here to pick me up?"

"What time are you off?"

"Six."

"I might be late. But I'll come if you don't mind waiting."

"No, I don't mind waiting. I'll be here."

They said goodbye, and he left once Wanda was inside. She felt a little better knowing she could expect him at the end of the day. He wouldn't break his promise to her, so things would be all right.

Her day went by quickly. She didn't have time to eat between serving all her tables, but an elderly gentlemen (one of her regulars) gave her a large tip. After splitting her tips with the busboys, she still had enough to buy dinner somewhere. She stood outside next to a couple smoking co-workers, waiting for Mort. He was late, as he'd said he might be. But later turned into very late, and Wanda started to grow anxious. Twenty minutes became forty, and still no Mort. She was safe enough, despite the dark, standing right in front of the restaurant, but that's not what worried her. What if her feelings had been a premonition? Or what if her fears had caused something to happen to him? That thought made her feel ill. She put her hand to her forehead and leaned back against the icy brick wall.

She tried not to think of anything, but clear her mind as Stephen had advised her. She'd never had much luck with that. It was so hard to keep every one of her swarming thoughts away. She opened her eyes as she heard a motorcycle pull up to the sidewalk a few feet away. Thanks to the gods. It was Mort. And he looked worried.

"Are you alright?" he said, stepping away from the running motorcycle.

Wanda realized how upset she looked. "I'm fine," she said, walking toward him. "Really. I'm just hungry." Mort didn't look reassured in the slightest, and apologized for being so late. She told him it was fine. They drove back to the apartment, stopping along the way for dinner.

- - -

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Wanda caught herself wishing for some of whatever she'd been constantly drugged with only months earlier. Things were so confusing. She wanted to hold onto Mort tight enough to convince herself he'd never leave. But she didn't even like him. Or at least, she didn't use to. Toad had been low and a sell-out to anyone who'd have him.

No, she contradicted herself, that wasn't true either. He'd been afraid, just like her. Afraid that people would stop wanting him around. He was afraid that he'd be alone, even though he was just as afraid of being with people. Just like she was now.

That was what was confusing. But if she didn't do something, he would surely leave. And then she'd be alone because she'd managed to estrange even her dear brother. Her only sure friend in the world. And Mort understood. He understood almost everything. She couldn't loose him.

Mort was in the kitchen, finishing the light he'd begun working on the day before. It was a simple job that he could have probably done asleep, so his mind was on other things. Namely, Wanda. He had no idea what was wrong, but he could tell that she was afraid of something. And she wouldn't tell him what it was.

But last night, she'd said something he'd only dreamed of hearing from her. And then she hugged him. She had actually put her arms around him. Sure, she was probably just upset and wanted a little comfort; it probably had nothing to do with him. But he could remember the feeling of her arms over his, her hands on his back, her head on his shoulder, her ribs expanding when she breathed, and her hair brushing against his face.

That had been the very first hug anyone had ever given him. And from the Scarlet Witch, of all possible people. Now she was scared of something that he couldn't fight for her, because he didn't know what her monster was.

He finished screwing in the light fixture and walked to the living room. Wanda was sitting on the couch, looking down at her hands. She looked up and smiled when he came in.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," she said back.

Mort glanced at the clock.

"It gets late quickly, doesn't it?" she said.

It was almost nine. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Am I in your way? Did you want to go to bed?"

He was tired. They kept hours like old people. Went to bed at ten, woke up at six. "No, it's all right. Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead." Wanda moved over to give him room.

"How have you been today?" he asked with a genuine interest.

'_I've been lonely and scared all day,'_ was her first thought. "I'm all right."

"Sure?"

"Just tired."

"Don't want to sleep, though, huh?"

Wanda looked down the hallway. "I don't like being so far away. My room feels like I'm locked in some isolated dungeon. I can't even be near other prisoners."

"A pillow's still got to be better than a sofa arm."

"No. Not when I'm all alone."

"Do you want to stay out here again tonight?"

"Where did you sleep last night?"

"Oh, I was on the floor."

"No, I won't make you sleep on the floor. I'll just grow up and learn to sleep in my own room." Wanda tried to smile.

Toad cautiously reached for her arm, and gently held her wrist. Wanda let him, and she lay her head on his shoulder. Toad didn't move to disturb her.

"I don't like being scared all the time," she whispered.

Mort wanted to say something comforting, but didn't know what would help. His solution to being afraid was to be indifferent. Though even that wasn't foolproof, and it would hardly suit Wanda. So he simply said, "I don't like you being scared all the time either. What are you afraid of? What can I do?"

"I'm afraid something's going to happen to you. I'm afraid I'll hurt you, or you'll leave me, and then I'll be all alone again. I'm afraid this won't last."

He knew he couldn't promise that he wouldn't keel over and die unexpectedly. Things happened. He could only promise what he could control. "Wanda, I'm not going to leave you. I won't leave unless you ask me to."

"Please, don't even go then. I don't know what I'll do. I'll say something without thinking and you'll leave. Don't leave me even if I ask you to!"

"All right, I won't. I won't leave."

"Please, promise me."

"I promise."

Wanda hadn't lifted her head from his shoulder. Promises didn't make a difference. "It's late. I should go to bed."

"Oh, right."

Wanda sat up, and Mort helped her to her feet. They walked down the hallway together, Mort pausing when they came to her bedroom door. She was still holding his hands, and she lead him in. He'd actually never seen her room but a couple times in passing. He'd never been inside.

"You're room's cold," he remarked.

"It's the window. It's cracked."

"You should have told me; I'd have fixed it for you."

"Yes, I probably should have." Wanda was looking away from him, still holding both of his hands in front of her. She looked, to Mort, like she was afraid the world wouldn't be there in the morning if she went to sleep tonight.

To Wanda, it might not. She never knew. Besides, even if it was, she'd have to go through hours of nightmares before morning came. She looked at Mort in the eyes. She could see worry in his face. She'd seen worry before. Worry marred the distinguished features of Dr. Strange whenever he looked at her, and worry paired with regret was in her father's constant gaze. She didn't want worry. And she didn't want to be alone.

She drew Mort close again, so that their faces were almost touching. She let go of his hands to move hers to his back. Mort didn't reciprocate her movements. He was still and stunned. But Wanda wasn't. For the first time all evening, she knew what she was doing.

Resting her addled head against his, she traced the muscles in his back and lead him closer to the bed. She heard him swallow, but she knew he wouldn't object. There were at least a few things in her life she could control. She sat back on her bed and, arms around Mort, brought him with her.

As she predicted, he didn't resist her. Mostly because he was so surprised, but also because he didn't want to ruin a good thing. Or at least, what seemed like a good thing. A part of his mind told him that no good could come from this, and that Wanda was just lonely and easily manipulated. But no amount of cold logic could outweigh Wanda's warm body wrapped around his.

She lay her head back on the pillow and finally, Mort's shaking hands found their way to her waist. Her fingers slid down his back and under the hem of his jacket. The greater part of him didn't want any of it to stop. But, despite his rising heart rate, it seemed too sudden to believe she was sincere. "Wanda ..." he whispered. But she shushed him, bringing her lips so close to his that he thought she would kiss him. She didn't, though. She had him close, and she wouldn't sleep alone tonight. That was all that mattered.


	6. Chapter 6: ReCreation Part VI

House of W

Re-Creation

Part VI

"_But I'm really not a bad man. Love me and you'll see! To be good, all I ever needed was to be loved. If you loved me, I'd be gentle as a lamb and you could do whatever you pleased with me."_

_Erik, from _The Phantom of the Opera,_ by Gaston Leroux_

Surely, he was still dreaming. Either that or he'd lost his sanity. Or he was going to die as soon as Wanda awoke.

Toad allowed himself to breathe again. He looked around with just his eyes. He made sure he could feel all of his body. Yes. He was definitely awake. And the fact that he held a few of Wanda's silken, auburn tresses in his hand confirmed that he had, in actuality, done it with the Scarlet Witch.

Mort quietly turned his head to look at her. She was facing him, still asleep, with most of her hair fallen over her shoulder. He'd always thought she had beautiful hair. He looked at his own webbed fingers wrapped around her soft curls. He heard her sigh, but her eyes remained closed.

- - -

Before she opened her eyes, a tidal wave of very recent memories broke over her, and she blinked her eyes open to substantiate them. Toad lay next to her, his eyes watching her. Wanda closed her eyes before he could notice she was awake. Four words resounded in her head: What Did You Do?

At that moment, Wanda wanted nothing more than to sit up and reassess the situation. But she couldn't, as that would give away one advantage she had: she didn't have to look Toad in the face. What had she been thinking? What had she been _on_ to do something like that? Had she not realized that there was no way she'd be able to get rid of Toad now?

"Want me to leave?"

Wanda opened her eyes and saw Toad. And he knew. How had he been able to read her? How did he even know she was awake?

"What?" was all she could think of to say, to stall.

"You want me to leave?" Silent, sorrowful, and disappointed. God, Wanda thought, she'd given him a new wound. One to add to all the others they'd dealt each other over the years. What had she done?

She tried to lean over the side of the bed, away from him, to pick her shirt up off the floor, but her hair was pinned. She looked back and saw that it was twined around Toad's fingers.

"Don't leave." He was so quiet that Wanda had to read his lips to make out what he'd said.

"I have to make breakfast, don't I?" Even to her, her voice sounded hollow..

"You can get up, and make breakfast. Just, please don't leave me."

"I . . ." Wanda stared at him, realizing the depth of what he was asking. _Don't abandon me. Don't throw me away, now that you've seen and don't like. _For years, Wanda had looked down on Toad. She been unimpressed by his interest in her, and repelled by his advances. But in the past couple weeks, she'd seen a truly different side of him, and she hoped he'd seen a more compassionate side of her.

She felt no repulsion towards him now. And, strangely, she didn't even feel the need to escape. She had nothing; she might as well share it. Hadn't it been only last night that she was so desperate for him not to leave her?

"I won't leave you, Mort."

His eyes didn't change at first. They still looked too afraid of disappointment to believe, but after a moment his face showed a degree of calm.Wanda looked at her hair, and Toad followed her line of sight. Then he realized, and immediately let go.

"Sorry . . ."

Wanda picked up her shirt and put it on, and reached for her blanket at the foot of the bed. She wrapped it around herself and got up, heading toward the bathroom.

"Wanda ..."

She stopped and looked back at him.

"Will you ... stay?"

She looked back at him, uncomprehending. "I said I wouldn't leave."

"I know, but," Mortimer began twitching his fingers. "But not leaving and staying are different."

Wanda looked at him in silence for a moment. "I said I won't leave." She went into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Mortimer, shoulders hunched, inwardly berated himself for asking too much. He'd blown it now. Couldn't just be satisfied, had to ask for more. Don't leave. Stay. He must have sounded like such an idiot to her. She was probably disgusted with herself now, for going to bed with him. _Just had to ruin a good thing, Toad_, he said to himself. _Just had to go and wreck the fact that you were already living with her. _He pulled his clothes on and went outside.

The little girl next door was on the front walkway, waiting for her mother to walk her to school. Mort had not looked at the clock, but if the girl hadn't left yet it was probably seven-thirty or so. He tried not to think about what Wanda might be thinking. Instead, he tried to think about what else needed to be done in their crappy little townhouse. If she even wanted him to stay in the house anymore.

Mort looked at the girl, who was spinning around in place, her lunch box making a ring around where she stood. To be living here, her parents must be as destitute as he and Wanda were, but Mort was envious of them. That girl's father had everything. At least, everything Mort wanted. He had a wife who loved him. You could tell. She went outside to greet him when he came home and kissed and hugged him. The little girl would run out and say hello to him too. A wife who loved him, and even a kid to love. _More_ than everything Mort had ever wanted.

The door behind him opened. He almost turned around, but managed to hold still. He waited, like a condemned prisoner awaiting a sentence.

Wanda spoke softly. "Mortimer?"

He could tell that she was leaning toward him, trying to see his face. "Yeah?"

"Do you want to eat? There's bread. And milk ..."

Mort turned around to face her, and saw, by her wet hair, that she'd already taken a shower. "Yeah, sure."

They both went back inside, and sat down to bread for breakfast. Unsure of how she felt about the night's events, Wanda wished she could see Mort's thoughts. He wanted her to stay with him, right? That's what he'd said. Of course he did. He'd been obsessed with her since they'd met - years ago. But Wanda quickly stopped herself from that train of thought. He was not so one-dimensional, she now knew. He had loved her, but hadn't he also hated her for a time? She thought that in trying to keep him near her, she might have succeeded in driving him away.

Did he now, like the biblical Amnon, 'hate her with a hate greater than the love he had loved her with?' For rebuffing his plea for her to stay; or did he perhaps no longer want her now that he had her? She had imagined that he'd be clinging to her, tripping over her words as he had in the past. But Wanda, bread in hand, had to remind herself that neither of them were the same people they'd been years before.

"Mortimer?" she prodded again.

He looked at her.

"Are you angry with me? For anything?"

Mort's eyes widened. "No, no of course I'm not. Why would I be?"

"For anything. Just for anything I've done in the past."

"No, not at all. Of course not. I ... I love you."

Wanda didn't say anything in response, but wiped her hands on her napkin. "I need to go soon."

"Right, I'll drive you, if you want."

"Yes, thank you."

- - -

After hanging up her apron and heading outside, Wanda had only a few minutes to herself before Mortimer came to drive her home. It was the only time she'd had alone all day. And she had a lot to think about in only a few minutes. And it wasn't anything she _wanted_ to think about.

She knew what would happen tonight. The question would hang in the air; the question of ... sleeping arrangements. And the burden would fall to her, as she didn't foresee Mortimer being authoritative about it. But she didn't have the answer.

Were they 'together' now? Did she want to be 'together?' Was there any sane reason on this planet she should have a lover? Wanda closed her eyes against the pain she knew would come. She was still married. Still in love, though anyone would wonder why. No one could take his place ... Not Mortimer or even Simon. ...

But those relationships would never be again. She didn't think she could ever even look at Simon again. And, of course, she'd never be able to look at her husband again.

Wanda pushed the thoughts from her mind. She couldn't think about it for too long, or she would loose herself in regret and guilt. She knew that much well. But still, there was the question of Mort. She'd never relive her past loves, so why not give in to the timid man who still seemed to worship her, and who had been her anchor for these past weeks?

Because she didn't want to go through the ordeal again. Relationships never worked for her. With the best of intentions, she broke everything she touched. But, she realized, if she left Mort now, she'd break him anyway. And she had told him she wouldn't leave.

Though, she hadn't said she'd stay...

She heard the motorcycle as it rounded the corner. She still had no answer. If she thought of him, she'd choose to stay with him. If she thought of herself... Wanda glanced over the past few years of her life and knew she couldn't be alone. If not for Mortimer, the solitude would have killed her. He held her down to earth. He kept her in reality. If she thought of herself, of her own well being, she'd choose to stay with him. And if he would stay with _her,_ through her hells, then perhaps she could make it through them.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, as he put his foot on the pavement, waiting for her.

"Yes," she said.

- - -

They were sitting back in the livingroom.

"You know what I've done, don't you?"

"What ... with what?"

"Those months ago, with ... The Avengers." Wanda was still pained to say the name.

"Yeah, I know."

She took a breath. "Then you know what I can do. What I _have_ done. When I wake up, ever since that day, it's been like waking up in hell. Or at least it was for a time. And then, after a while, it became more like purgatory. When I left Genosha and came here, I was trying to escape that. But it didn't work. It didn't change." She looked up, but not at him. "Until you came. Then, things seemed to be a little more bearable. But I've still never been able to escape.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to have the life I wanted for myself. But when you're here, I don't feel so much like I'm in limbo. I feel more like I'm back on earth. But I'll never make it to paradise." She looked at him now. "If you want to stay with me, you need to know that." Mortimer was quiet for a few moments. To Wanda, it seemed he was thinking it over.

Finally, he said, "I'd rather live in your purgatory with you than in a paradise without you," he said. "If ... if you'll have me, that is."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, what's paradise when you're alone? 'Sides, I already promised I wouldn't leave, even if you threw me out. " he half smiled.

For a moment, Wanda took her turn at silence. "Then I'll stay with you," she said.

* * *

And so comes the conclusion of "Re-Creation." Yay! I have a whole new set of chapters just waiting to be polished and uploaded ... but unfortunately I'm moving out of state tomorrow. And, even more unfortunately, I won't have internet access for about another two weeks. But once I do, and once I unpack my notebooks and get the next chapters typed, I'll post them.

Where are Wanda and Mortimer headed now? What will Dr. Strange think of this new 'development?' Could this relationship really hold up against anything? Answers to all this, plus the addition of some other Marvel characters you'll surely remember, when we return. Same Bat time, same Bat channel.

Thank you, Nyltiak and Pateetchka, my faithful readers.

ShoshanaFlower


	7. Chapter 7: New Arrivals Part I

House of W

New Arrivals

Part I

Emma Frost paused by Polaris' door when she heard an interesting, one-sided conversation.

"Who? No ... I haven't heard anything about her. This is the first I've heard anything about you! The last place I saw Wanda Maximoff was atyour_ memorial _service. Is the only reason you're letting me know you're alive to ask me about her?"

Emma peaked into Lorna's perspective to double-check who she was talking to. Very surprising.

"_Half_-sister, if we're related at all. Look, _Dad_, I don't know if I can believe that you're really you. I'd rather not talk right now. Or maybe ever. I've got to go."

How truly interesting. Magneto was communicating to one estranged daughter about the other. Now why would he be so interested in Wanda as to blow his cover? Emma turned around and headed toward her office. Perhaps it was time she said hello to Xavier.

- - -

For Wanda and Mortimer both, uncertainty began to settle into routine. With their makeshift vows of loyalty, they found a small sense of security. Mort fixed the window in Wanda's room, and they both slept there. Like any other couple in the complex. After just over a week, Mort hardly recalled his former, adventurous life. The most life-threatening thing he did now was driving in the rain.

But since they'd been sharing a room, he'd discovered other things about her that he'd never known. Such as the fact that she had nightmares every night. At first he didn't know what he should do. Wake her? Try to turn her to her other side? Let her be? Usually, she woke up gasping or crying, and Mort would take her hands or her arms and tell her that things were okay.

Sometimes she'd talk in her sleep as well. Usually single words or things that didn't make sense. But she always sounded frightened or angry. Now Mort had a greater understanding of why she didn't want to be alone. Whatever images where haunting her came to her when her mind was closed off from anyone else.

It wasn't the fantasy life Mort had envisioned years ago. They lived in a run-down apartment in a bad part of town. They weren't married. They were both nuts. But two nuts together are better than two nuts alone, right?

One evening, Toad looked through the front window and saw Wanda standing out front in the porch light, staring off. When he went out and stood beside her, he saw that she was looking at their neighbors' daughter. The girl was picking up her toys to bring inside, while the mother watched.

"Do you think she'll have bad memories about growing up here?" Wanda asked softly.

Toad glanced at the girl. "Her? I don't know. She doesn't seem too bad off."

"No, she doesn't. She seems happy." She turned her gaze from the girl to him. "Were you ever happy as a child?"

"Me? Can't say that I was." That seemed pessimistic, and Wanda didn't seem happy to hear it, so he reconsidered her question. "Well, there was this one time," he said after a moment, "I was just barely old enough to get away with sleeping on the streets, and I was walking along in some alley. You know, it was really cold and everything, so I was looking for a garbage can or something that had enough room for me to get in and stay warm. I had just come to a nice-sized dumpster when one of the back doors opened. I hid and watched the storekeeper just toss a box into the trash and then go back inside. So I climbed in, and there's all this candy inside. It must have been a candy shop. It was a little moldy, and I had to fight off a few ants, but there it was, all for me. I was happy then."

He watched Wanda's distressed expression succumb to doubt, and finally skepticism. "You're kidding me," she challenged.

Sheepishly, he smirked. Then he saw Wanda show the most genuine smile he'd seen since he'd met her there.

"I believed you for a moment. There must have been one good thing. Don't you have any pleasant memories at all?"

He smiled. "I do, actually," he said, overcoming the urge to swat a buzzing mosquito with his tongue. "There was this girl. And I really liked her, so one day I asked her if she liked me too. And she said no. But she was still nice to me."

Wanda looked confused. "Really? That's it?"

"Yes." He waved the mosquito out of his face and added, "And then, later, I met her again. And she was even nicer to me."

It took her a moment before she realized. "You're talking about me," she smiled.

Thankfully, she was amused. "Yeah. I am. What about you? You have any?" Once he'd asked, he wondered if it was a mistake. But Wanda didn't seem especially upset.

"I have several. There were many times when I had a family, and food, and a place to live. It's just that they're spread between so many horrible things, I tend to forget them. But there were times when Pietro and I were very happy."

Pietro, Mort thought. She had always been close to her brother. Where was he all this time? Mort wondered why he hadn't considered the question before. Pietro would kill him if he knew Mort was living with his sister.

"I'm going in," Wanda said, disrupting his thoughts.

"Oh, right. Me too." Mort opened the door for her and as he followed, he glanced at the girl. Arms full of stuffed animals, she carefully carried her load up to her mother at her own front door. The little girl had everything.

- - -

Genosha

Charles Xavier looked up as Magneto entered the room.

"I spoke to Lorna today, Charles." Magneto watched a mildly annoyed look pass over his friend's face.

"I trust she was pleasantly surprised to hear from you."

"Are my children ever pleased to hear from me? I contacted her to ask if she'd heard from Wanda. She hasn't."

"Are you asking me to locate her for you, Eric?"

"It goes against her wishes, yes, but do you really trust that magician with her? He can't handle her alone any better than you can."

"What is it you hope to gain by finding out where she is? It was you who made the decision to let her leave."

"I want some peace of mind. Tell me you haven't wanted to know, haven't wanted to check up on her."

"Indeed, the temptation proved too great."

"You know -"

"She's living in Pennsylvania now. Or at least she was a few weeks ago. You didn't ask, so I didn't offer."

"Is she still there?"

Xavier concentrated. "Yes, she is -" he looked up.

"What? Is she well?"

"Yes, she is. She's alive and her mind is alert."

"What aren't you telling me, Charles? What do you know?"

"We've invaded her privacy enough." Xavier looked away.

"Remember that you aren't my only source for information," Magneto said, leaving the room.

- - -

Wanda's Apartment

'_Who's hammering at this hour?'_ Wanda strained to see the clock by her bedside. Before her eyes could fully focus, three things became instantly clear. The sound was not someone hammering, but someone knocking. It would be Dr. Strange coming to check up on her. She was in bed with a man Dr. Strange would certainly not want her in bed with.

Freeing herself from Mort's arms, Wanda pushed the covers aside and quickly began changing into yesterday's clothes. Awakened, Mort heard the door too.

"Let it be," he said.

"I can't! It's Stephen. I forgot he was coming today."

"Oh." Toad realized the situation. "What should I -"

"Just stay here. He never comes in my room." Without waiting for a response from him, Wanda dashed out, pulling the door closed behind her.

Alone in Wanda's room, Toad suddenly began to feel like the shameful secret locked away in a closet.

- - -

"Stephen, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting." Wanda opened the door and invited him in. "I was actually still asleep. Shameful, isn't it?"

"Not at all. In that case, you must forgive my intrusion."

Wanda offered him the couch while she took the chair. Seating himself, Dr. Strange noticed the folded blanket was missing. "I'm sorry to have awakened you, Wanda. Do you need a moment?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Have you been sleeping well?"

"What? Oh, I have been. Thank you."

"You've been keeping active, I see. You're still working?"

"Yes, though I'm only part-time."

Dr. Strange looked around. "Where's the Toad?"

Wanda inwardly started. Could he really suspect? "He must be out. I just woke up, as I said."

"I see. Does he usually walk in such cold weather?"

"What? What do you mean, 'walk?'"

"I noticed the motorcycle on the way in. That is his, I assume."

Dropping any pretenses, Wanda's tone fell from a mock cheerful one to a grave one. "What are you asking?"

"Only a simple question."

"You never ask simple questions, Stephen. What is it you're trying to find out?"

"Wanda, I'm concerned about the relationship you have with the Toad."

He did know. He'd known even before she had. "And just what concerns you about it? You seem to know the answers to what you're asking, so why pull me through the charade?"

"Wanda, please think about what you're doing. Think about how far you've come."

"You're the one who never seems to think about how far I've come. Why do I feel like you're holding me back the most?"

"Holding you back? From what, exactly?"

He was trying to set her up for something, but she didn't know what. What was he holding her back from? "From being ... normal. You seem to think that I'll always be some fragile doll with a bomb inside it, waiting to be tipped in the wrong direction. I don't think I could ever come far enough to appease you. Everything I do is another step in the wrong direction. But_ I_ feel better. I feel stronger. For the first time in god knows how long, I feel like I might be able to -" she stopped, afraid of how he might take her next words. "To live a remotely normal life," she amended.

"Wanda," Dr. Strange was speaking softly. "How many times in the past have you felt the same way?"

"You wouldn't know, would you? Where were you? I can manage on my own, Stephen. I always have. I don't need you."

"But you need someone, Wanda. You have to have someone to trust -"

"I don't trust you," Wanda glared at him. "I've trusted you before."

"You're not -"

"I want you to leave."

"Wanda, Magneto did not agree to your release without conditions."

"Go ahead and call the two of them. Try to take me back there." Wanda leaned forward in her chair, seething. "But for right now; leave."

Peaceably, Dr. Strange stood. "I will, Wanda. And I'm very sorry."

"For what you have done, or for what you will?"

"You cannot expect to get far."

"I don't expect to run." Wanda stood, walked to the door, and opened it. "I'm not proposing any kind of altercation. I want to be left in peace."

Dr. Strange moved through the doorway. "Peace is never so easy, Wanda."

The door was closed.

- - -

Dr. Strange nodded to Xavier's image on the screen in front of him. "Hello, Charles. No. It's not good news. I believe we have a very eminent problem. Charles, you know this needs to be taken care of. Things cannot go on the way they have been. It has to end. I am sorry too."

* * *

Footnotes for the Next Chapter:

I rather dislike having author notes in the beginnings of chapters, so this note is for chapter eight (part II). In the series _Mystique_ by Vaughan, Xavier, with the help of one of Forge's inventions, is able to telepathically project his image into anyone's sight. So, his form looks like a life sized transparency standing (er, sitting) next to whomever he's talking to. I don't know if this has been used in any other series, but since I'll be using it in the next chapter, I wanted to mention it.


	8. Chapter 8: New Arrivals Part II

House of W

New Arrivals

Part II

'_Hello, Professor.' _Emma Frost mentally smiled. _'I hope you're well.'_

'_I am, Emma. And you?'_

'_Very good, thank you. Forgive me for cutting to the chase, Charles. A bit of news has leaked out over here, and Scott and I have become a little concerned. Am I correct to understand that the Scarlet Witch is MIA, and Magneto is looking for her?'_

'_Emma ...'_

'_People seem to be turning up alive all over the place.'_

'_Emma, I can assure you that this issue does not concern the school.'_

'_But it concerns the X-Men. Magneto's been in contact with Polaris, and she seems upset about it. And if he's a threat to -'_

'_He is no threat now. You know I would keep you aware of any danger to the X-Men or the students.'_

'_Still, the situation interests me, and I'd like -'_

'_I wouldn't like to discuss -'_

'_I'd like to know the dangers.'_

_Xavier sighed. 'Fine, Emma. If you so insist.'_

- - -

"What did he say?" Scott asked when Emma refocused on the room.

"The situation is more serious than I thought it would be. But Xavier's trying to keep it quiet. It seems that Magneto's daughter, the Scarlet Witch, has been playing some destructive games. He wouldn't tell me, but I think she's responsible for the disaster with the Avengers."

"Where is she now?"

"Apparently she's living in Philadelphia, supervised by Dr. Strange. She had been under Xavier's care in Genosha, until Magneto forced the two to back down and let her run wild."

"Xavier knows where she is, but Magneto doesn't?"

"I can only assume he'll find out soon. The news seems to be spreading like wildfire."

"Is she still a threat?"

"Her mind is an unstable mess, and her powers are worse. As long as she's alive, she's a threat."

- - -

"... mutants, I know it."

Toad stopped short and listened. Two stories up on the roof of Wanda's apartment, he heard the girl-next-door's parents down on their cement slab porch. The father was speaking. "We should be able to give Brooke a better place to grow up."

The wife hushed him. "Dear, they could be home."

Ignoring her, he went on, "Where are we going to move from here? Another dump full of ex-cons and muties?"

Toad decided he didn't need to hear anymore. It was always the same. Even the lowest humans thought they deserved to choose their neighbors. To keep their children safe from 'muties.' Toad leapt off the roof and landed several feet from them. As he expected, instant, frightened silence fell. Calmly, he stood up, walked to his front door and went inside, leaving the pair to their paranoid imaginations.

Inside, Wanda was nowhere in sight. Probably in her room. They hadn't really spoken since that morning. He'd heard parts of the exchange between her and Dr. Strange, and after she'd kicked him out, Wanda left. Toad had straightened up inside, and when Wanda came back in, she said she was going out again for a walk. He'd worried about her, but he didn't try to stop her. She was gone for close to an hour. He'd been sitting up on the roof when she came home, just several minutes ago.

Gingerly, he headed down the hallway. Her door stood open.

"Wanda?" he asked.

"Come in."

He did as she bade. Wanda was sitting on the bed.

"I'm sorry for this morning, Mort. It was very unkind of me to treat you the way I did."

Mort was astonished. No one ever apologized to the Toad. Yet here was Wanda, saying she was sorry for doing something that had been completely rational.

"It's fine," he said. "Don't worry about it."

"I think I've made a mistake," she went on. "I put Stephen on the extreme defense. I shouldn't have gotten angry at him. He was just ... he made me feel like a little girl caught in a lie."

"Is he going to do something?"

"I don't know. Probably." She looked him in the face. "I'm afraid of what he can do. Not by any sorcery, but by what he can do if he speaks to my father or Xavier. I've made such a terrible mistake. They'll take me back to Genosha and drug me and put me in a room with no windows."

Wanda dropped her head, and Toad stood, stunned. They couldn't. No, not after all this. Not now that he finally had what he'd always wanted. And to do that to Wanda. To take away her freedom after they'd already given it to her, to lock her up in her own personal asylum.

"No, don't you worry about that." he stepped over to her and knelt in front of her. "I won't let anyone do that to you."

Wanda looked down at him and smiled sadly. "They're the two most powerful mutants on the planet, and the universe's Sorcerer Supreme, Mort. I don't mean this in a hurtful way, but you're no match. I'm just getting so tired of this. I wish they'd stop trying to control me. I wish they'd just kill me and end this nightmare."

Mort's eyes opened to their limit. "What? No! Listen to me," he took her wrists in his hands. "You can't do that, Wanda. You promised me. You promised that you wouldn't leave me."

Wanda seemed unmoved. "Yes, I did, didn't I? I promised Pietro, too, in a way. But I'm so tired of fighting this off."

"Stop it, Wanda. Stop talking like this. You can ...you can reason with them. You can reason with Magneto! He might listen to you. He let you leave in the first place. What if you just apologized to Strange?"

"I don't think it would help me. The damage is done."

"Will you stop saying that? You had an argument, and I'm sure it's because he was just being a dick. Just tell them what happened before you hand yourself over like a ransom. Come on. Call him right now and tell him that you're sorry for yelling with him." Toad let go of her arms to go pick her phone up off the dresser. Handing it to her, he said, "Go on. Help yourself."

Wanda did as Toad asked. On the other end of the line, Sara answered the phone, and Wanda waited for Dr. Strange.

"Hello, Stephen. I'm calling to apologize. No, I know. But what I said to you was undeserved. You must be able to understand what its like, feeling like a lab rat trapped inside a clear cage. I feel like every part of my life is being broadcast on a screen. You ... oh. I see. Yes, of course I'll be there. What time? Yes, Stephen. I'll see you shortly."

Wanda ended the call and looked at Mort. "He wants me to go see him. He'd like to have a meeting with Magneto, Xavier, and I."

- - -

Xavier found Magneto standing on a balcony overlooking the ruins of Genosha.

"Eric," he said, speaking to his back, "things are getting out of hand."

"I didn't realize things were ever in hand. What new catastrophe has occurred now?"

"Emma Frost found out about your communications with Polaris."

Slowly, Magneto turned around. "And you told her, didn't you?"

"What else could I have done?"

"That woman will bring her own justice on my daughter, Charles. If she hasn't already."

"It was a mistake to let her go. And we're paying for it now. I'm afraid that's not all. Dr. Strange wants the three of us to talk to Wanda via telepathic communication. She'll be arriving at his house shortly. And Eric, there is something else as well."

"Let's have it. Whatever it is, I'm sure it couldn't make a drop of difference in a sea of troubles."

"Wanda isn't living alone. The Toad has found her somehow -"

"What? _Who's_ found her? What's he done to her?"

"Nothing as far as either of us can tell."

"The obsessive , spineless creature can mean her no good, Charles. How long have you known about this? How long have you left her in danger?"

"Less than an hour. Don't try to confront him. You know what a fragile state Wanda's mind is in already."

"Confront him? I plan to eliminate his useless life. The Toad has been a thorn in my side for too long. It was a mistake for me to take him in."

"Dr. Strange tells me that he's been living with her for a short time now. "

"And tell me, why don't you, what exactly 'living with' entails?"

Xavier didn't answer.

"How could you let this happen to her, Charles? After everything else?"

"You know as well as I do that she's been past the point of helping since you brought her here. This has to end, Eric. You and I can do it, or we can let someone else. Someone who might not be so kind."

"Are you talking about killing her?"

"Can you think of a more humane solution?"

Magneto said nothing at first. "You're convinced she cannot live on her own?"

"Without any protection, she's being left out to the wolves. You know it."

"And with it, she'll spend the rest of her life locked up here. God help me, Charles. I have never done any right by her. I know you can't handle her forever, but isn't there some way?"

"As willing as you would be to care for her, as a mentally void child, she would be miserable. You can't help her anymore, and neither can I."

"Fine," he said, brushing the air with his hand and turning away again. "Fine. Let it end."

- - -

As they were leaving the apartment building, Wanda stopped and picked up her mail. There was one letter. She opened it.

"What's that?" Toad asked.

Wanda read through the first lines. "An eviction notice."

Toad froze. They were being evicted? He remembered the conversation their neighbors had earlier that day. So that's what the stupid humans were talking about. He looked at Wanda. "How long do we have?"

"Ninety days." She folded up the letter. "Mort, we were doing so well."

"No, don't worry about it. We'll go get a better place. We'll do even better." She didn't seem cheered. "Come on, you never liked this place, did you? Let's get someplace nicer."

"Mort," she began, "how much money do you actually have?"

"Well, I've got a few thousand in American currency. And I have about ten thousand more in euros." He began to fear that she wouldn't want him to come to any new place. After all, she could get anything she wanted from her father.

"It's none of my business, but ..." She waited for him to answer.

"Well, I got it legally if that's what you're asking. I sold a bit of technology a while back."

"Oh."

"So you really don't need to worry about money."

"I suppose not ..." Wanda put the letter in her purse and continued walking. "Did you have any place in mind?"

"No, I guess not. Maybe we could find somewhere more secluded," he suggested, looking at the graffiti on the wall. "Away from all these people."

"No, I don't want to live away from other people. I've done that for so long."

"Well, wherever, don't worry about it. We'll find somewhere."

- - -

Sara invited them inside and offered Mort a seat while she lead Wanda upstairs.

Wanda was ushered into a room with Dr. Strange and two holographic-looking forms of Xavier and Magneto. Suddenly, she felt alone without Mort. If he was there, he'd make sure no one took advantage of her confusion.

She spoke to Dr. Strange. "What happens to me will concern Mortimer too. Could he sit in on this?"

Even in his diaphanous form, Wanda could see Magneto's shoulders stiffen.

Stephen merely said, "If you wish, Wanda," and proceeded to re-open the door and ask Sara to send Mortimer in.

When Mort had entered and taken his place next to Wanda (avoiding Magneto's eyes), Xavier began.

"Wanda, we're concerned with your current living conditions. Perhaps it would be better if you lived somewhere closer to one of the three ofus."

'_Don't blindside her, Charles,'_ Magneto said mentally. _'You're luring her like a pig to a butchery.'_

'_Would you rather have to fight her powers? Try to be objective.'_

"I will be moving soon, anyway," Wanda said.

Xavier looked up at her. "Why will you be moving?"

"I've been evicted."

"Wanda," Magneto interrupted, "would you consider coming back to Genosha?"

"Why should I do that?"Her words were laced with ice.

Neither specter answered. It was Stephen who responded, "Professor Xavier and Magneto have both expressed their concern to me that you should return."

"No. I will never go back there again." She addressed Magneto. "You can't give me my freedom only to take it back whenever you choose." Turning to Stephen she continued, "You know exactly what will happen to me if I go back. I don't want to live that way. It's not living."

"Wanda ..." Magneto started.

"I know you think I'm a loose and loaded cannon, and I know I am. But I've tried so hard to pull myself back together. I can control it now."

"Only to the extent that you don't use your mutant powers." Dr. Strange corrected her. "You couldn't control them if you were to use them."

"There are plenty of others who can't. Some of the X-Men at that. If you don't believe I can be helped, I wish you would just kill me and get it over with. Don't force this life on me any longer." She could feel Mort looking at her and she remembered what he'd said earlier. In a more even tone, she said to her three judges, "If you are going to decide the rest of my life for me, I only ask that you make a decision and stay with it."

Calmly, Dr. Strange probed, "Tell me what you want, Wanda. If you could decide for yourself."

Such a loaded question. She knew she shouldn't be alive with her chaotic power. She was too cowardly to kill herself. She'd only ever wanted a happy life. A life where she and Pietro could finally be at peace. As she tried to formulate an answer, something Agnes had said came to her. 'Like all things, we seek balance.' Wanda's life was entirely unbalanced. What she'd contributed did not match what she'd taken. She had a chance to balance things out, but if she went on, she might only make it worse.

"I don't know," she whispered. Consentaneously, the three seemed to take that as her definitive answer. But Wanda continued, "I want to see my brother again. I want to ... I want to be well. I want to be happy."

Magneto spoke up. "If you won't go to Genosha, would you be willing to try and find a compromise?"

"A compromise?"

'_Eric,'_ Xavier said telepathically, _'Stop. You agreed to this.'_

'_But_ s_he's right,' _he objected_. 'Look at her now, Charles, and tell me she needs to die. When was the last time you saw her so lucid? Which of us is supposed to be the humanitarian here?'_

"What kind of compromise?" Wanda prodded.

'_I won't go through with this.' _Magneto was firm_. 'Find her another place to live and we'll continue to watch her.'_

Xavier sighed. "I have several safe houses here in New York, Wanda. You could move into one of those."

"What would be the conditions I'd have to adhere to?" Wanda asked.

"You would allow Dr. Strange and I to check in on you, and you'd adhere to a curfew."

"A curfew?" Mort interjected, but Wandastopped him.

"That's all right," she said. "And what about Mortimer? He can do as he pleases?"

No one answered at first. Magneto looked at Xavier. Again, Dr. Strange answered. "As long as it's no determent to you."

"How long will this be for? Forever?"

"It's undecided so far," Xavier said. "Let's play it by ear."

Wanda looked to Mortimer, and then back to Xavier. "All right. Since I have no more viable solution, I'll agree."

- - -

In Genosha, Xavier psychically contacted Emma Frost. _'I thought you might like to be kept abreast of the developing situation concerning Wanda Maximoff. Are you busy?'_

"_Filling in for a history teacher, but don't let that stop you. What's going on?'_

'_Wanda will be living near the school in a house I've provided.'_

'_What? How "near the school" are you talking about, Charles?'_

'_Eight miles away.'_

'_That's -'_

'_Before you object, one of the reasons I'm putting her there so that you and the X-Men will be nearby should anything happen.'_

'_Not to mention a school full of children. Did you think I wouldn't look into the situation? She's a danger to everyone. You're creating a deadly risk, and I know you know it.'_

'_It is the best solution for the time being.'_

'_No. The best solution would be to put her down. You're making a mistake.'_

'_Humor me, Emma.'_

'_I can't talk anymore. I have to get back to my class.' _Ms. Frost curtly stopped the conversation.

"Well?" Magneto asked Xavier, once he'd looked up.

"I think she'll go along. But I don't expect full co-operation or any support. She's worried about the risk, understandably."

"And you?"

"Of course I am as well."

"And you're going to give her permission to do whatever's necessary should a problem arise."

"I don't need to give her permission. She'll do what she has to."

"Yes. I'm familiar with her style." Magneto walked away from him. Wanda had looked so much better when he'd seen her earlier. The miserable, guilt-ridden, crying little girl had transformed back into the sharp, determined woman she'd been before. If not for the Toad, Magneto would have thought she was completely better. Toad's new relationship with Wanda was his greatest worry right now. But Magneto had every intention of finding out exactly what the street urchin was planning.


	9. Chapter 9: New Arrivals Part III

House of W

New Arrivals

Part III

First they lock her up, think about killing her, and now they just turn her out? And then they let her fall into the hands of The Toad? The three of them should be hung. Especially Magneto.

Furious as well as fearful for his sister, Pietro ran to the address Xavier had given him. He had just come from Genosha, where he'd gone to see Wanda. When he had arrived there, he'd found her room empty. When he found Magneto and asked him where she was, he told him she'd left weeks before.

Left.

They just let her go. When she'd needed him, Magneto just turned her out to the world. Pietro had demanded he tell him where she was. The story went that she had been living somewhere, but now she would be living in a place Xavier provided. Tearing through the building, Pietro lifted Xavier out of his chair when he found him. He just wanted the address. But neither man would give it to him until they'd told him something else.

_She was living with someone._

_Who?_

_Someone he wouldn't like. But he'd -_

_Pietro's mind raced through all the possibilities. _

_- have to be understanding, for Wanda's sake._

_Who was it already?_

_Mortimer Toynbee. But Dr. Strange says -_

_Dr. Strange spews nothing but stupidity all day long! Dr. Strange said Wanda's children would be fine! Dr. Strange said Wanda's mind was lost. Where was his sister living now?_

_In New York._

_Give me the address!_

Still seething as he replayed the scene in his mind, Pietro slowed just enough to find the street. He was at the front door. He knocked, and waited.

And waited.

Finally, the door opened and he saw his sister.

"Wanda!" he said, embracing her.

"Pietro! What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you." he held her at arm's length to look her over. "How are you? How've you been? Where've you been? Are you all right? Has anything happened?"

"I'm fine, Pietro. I wasn't expecting you."

"Magneto told me you left. Where have you been?"

"I was living in Pennsylvania, up until today. Now we're moving in here." Wanda caught herself at the word 'we,' but Pietro noticed.

"Wanda, what are you doing living with him? He doesn't mean you any good!"

"No, Pietro, please calm down." Wanda moved his hands off of her arms. "Listen to me for a moment."

"He's taken advantage of you, Wanda. You have to get away from him."

"Pietro, listen to me. I am not a little girl, and I have not been deceived. Mort's not who you remember him as - "

"People like that don't change! Look at our -"

"I'm not finished, Pietro. Mort wouldn't hurt me anymore than you would -"

"Don't compare me to that slimy Toad! I have to get you out of here. You don't need Xavier's help. What's he done for you in the past fifteen months? Nothing! Wanda, come with me to where it's safe."

"And where have you found a place that's safe?"

"The moon. The Inhumans will have us. You still hold Crystal's favor, even if I don't, and you'll be safe there."

"Pietro, you don't understand."

"No, you're not listening."

"Pietro." She took hold of his hands. "I have to fix this. I have to gain control over it again. Hush. Listen to me. You haven't been here for some time, and you don't understand what's taken place. Do you really think I couldn't hold my own against Toad if I needed to?

"I would like to go to the moon with you someday and see Crystal and Luna again. But not now. Now I am where I want to be. You can come see me here, and things will start to get better. I think they will. Come inside."

"No, I have to leave. I have another engagement." He dropped her hands.

"Don't be angry with me. I have to do what's best."

"I'm not angry. I just have to be somewhere. But I'll come back to see you, Wanda."

"I love you, Pietro."

"I know. I love you too."

Wanda watched her brother's form disappear in a streamline blur. Dear Pietro. Despite his apparent hostility, she knew he really was a gentle man. One who was always trying to do what was right by everyone he cared about. An impossible task that had cost him dearly, but he tried.

- - -

After he left Wanda's new home, Pietro thought to go talk to Lorna. She was only a few seconds away, though it took him several moments to be allowed inside and to find her room. She said 'come in' when he knocked.

"Lorna?"

She got up immediately, surprised to see him. "Pietro. What are you doing here? Oh, hang on. Are you here about the Scarlet Witch?"

"No. I just came from seeing her. I came to say hello to you."

"Sorry, then. I'm glad to see you."

"What made you think I was here about Wanda?"

Lorna gave an effortless half-smirk. "Magneto contacted me the other day, wanting to know about her. Since you're here today, I thought it must be for the same reason."

"What did he want to know?"

"He asked if I'd heard from her, or if I knew where she was."

"He didn't even know where she was? The bastard."

"Pietro, how long have you known that Magneto was alive?

"Since last year. When he took Wanda to Genosha. Why?"

"I only just found out the other day. And that was only because he wanted something. Something that had nothing to do with me. I spent all that time with him, learning from him, and I've even defended his ways. I fought with him and for him, even when I knew he was wrong. And then he treats me like this."

"You don't need to talk about my father's morals to me, Lorna. You think you're the only one of his children whom he's treated like an expendable pawn?"

"I know."

"Don't take it personally, Lorna. He doesn't have favorites. One of the advantages of having a father who could care less unless it involves him."

Lorna didn't say anything.

"You care about him, though, don't you? Don't wait for him to return your loyalty or love. You'll be wasting your time."

"I know. So, since I've been hearing so much about her, or so little I guess, what's going on with your sister?"

"She's living nearby now. With the Toad."

"The Toad? That's ... a little unexpected."

"Actually, Lorna, I _would_ like to talk to you about her. Would you do me a favor? Check in on Wanda now and then. Make sure she's all right."

"Pietro, I hardly even know her. I still think of her as your sister, not mine. I don't even know what's wrong with her or what the big deal about where she lives is."

"Just look after her for me. I'll come back within the month."

"Wait -"

"Please, Lorna. I can't be here and I need to know she'll be alright."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just stop in or something. Take her out to lunch. Do sisterly things. Make sure she's still alive."

"Okay, Pietro. I'll stop by and see her sometime."

"Thanks. I have to go."

"Okay, I'll see you in a month?"

"About."

"Well, what else -"

Pietro was gone.

Sisterly things, huh? Well, a few re-runs of The Waltons should help her figure out what those were. And Wanda had always seemed like a well-grounded, reputable woman. The sisterly thing couldn't hurt to try.

- - -

Entirely unaware of Pietro's presence, Mort was also leaving the school. Five minutes earlier he had been in The White Queen's office where she'd personally offered him a job as an engineer. Out of the clear blue, someone from the school had called him and said that Ms. Frost requested his presence. Twenty minutes later, he had a job.

Leaping over the school grounds, he was already planning what he'd tell Wanda when he got back to her. She'd be impressed by news like this, right? Mort jumped onto the side of the building and propelled himself off. Just before he landed on the ground, he heard a noise and saw a cloud of smoke.

He was aware of hitting something and falling painfully to the ground. And something stank. Pulling himself to his feet, he looked down at what he'd landed on. Blue and furry, it was none other than The Amazing Nightcrawler. "Where the hell did you come from?"

Nightcrawler sat up on his haunches, rubbing his arm. "I'd like to ask you the same thing. You landed on me, you know."

"You teleported right where I was landing."

"Why are you jumping around the mansion anyway? I've never seen you here before."

Mort sneered at his scrutiny. "I'm The Toad King."

He seemed to recognize the name. "You were in Magneto's Brotherhood of Evil Mutants."

"Glad to see my reputation precedes me. But I've been solo for quite a few years."

"And you're here for ...?"

"I was invited. Meet your new head engineer."

He stood up. "My apologies. My name is K-"

"I know who you are. The circus monk. Nightcrawler."

"Then I see my reputation precedes me as well. Are you becoming a member of the X-Men, then?"

"Not in this lifetime. This is just a day job. I don't have any affiliation with you other than the fact that I'll be upgrading your jet pretty soon. If you're done with the third degree, I have to be getting home." Without waiting to be excused, Toad set off again.

Nightcrawler, meanwhile, went to find Emma to make sure what the Toad had told him was true.

- - -

Surrounded by stillness, Wanda sat in the kitchen of her new 'home.' She'd been there for two days already, and with Mortimer currently out trying to transfer his bank accounts, and with nowhere for her to go, she was bored. And lonely. She didn't know anyone to talk to. She didn't have anything to do. She had, like a disobedient teenager, a curfew.

The house reminded her of a hospital waiting room in all of its uptight sterility. Emotionless, pastel still lifes hung on her walls, and carefully set flower vases stood on the tables. Even the flowers were fake. Artificial flowers, she firmly believed, should not exist. _'I should erase all the silk flowers on the planet just to give Stephen a stroke.'_

It would have been nice to go out and get some real flowers, but she didn't like the thought of going out alone. She would have felt like a fool trying to get one of the X-Men to go with her. She didn't really know any of them anyway. Well, there was Polaris. Yes, Polaris, her father's favored child. The one who had instantly accepted him and inherited his control over magnetism.

So, nevermind Polaris.

Something in this arrangement would have to give before another day went by. Wanda had never been accustomed to sitting on her hands. She would simply have to get another job, or something, regardless of what Stephen thought was good for her.

The door opened, and Wanda went to greet Mort. "Hello, Mort. How - "

Mortimer stood by the closed door, holding something in his arms. Something that was moving.

"What is that?" Wanda asked, cautiously moving closer.

"I found it. I thought you might like it, or might like to at least take a look at it." The small thing mewed and lifted its head.

"Oh, Mort, you found a kitten? Where? Look at how small it is. It shouldn't be away from its mother yet."

"Yeah, well, it was alone when I found it."

Wanda lifted the kitten out of his arms. "Did you look around? Maybe it wandered off."

"It didn't wander. I found a few little snots on the street throwing cans at it on my way back. I checked for other cats, but I didn't find any."

"Mort, that's horrible."

"I did my best to scare a little empathy into them."

Now holding the cat on its back, Wanda examined it. "You poor thing. What a horrible first few days you've had. Are you hungry little one?"

"Do they take milk?"

"Yes. It should probably have formula, but milk will do for now. Though it looks too little to even drink from a bowl."

Mort poured a little milk in a shallow bowl anyway and handed it to Wanda. She set the cat down and let it sniff the milk, but when it tried to drink it ended up snorting it back out. Wanda lifted the cat in her arms again, dipped her finger in the bowl, and let the cat suck from her finger. It was a time-consuming process, and Mort watched wonderingly at how Wanda seemed to know these things.

When the kitten finally stopped drinking, Wanda let it stay in her arms. "I suppose we'll keep it for tonight," she said. We should find it a place to sleep where it can't crawl off and get itself hurt."

"Right. Should we put it in the bathroom?"

"That'll be good. And we should put some towels down for it to sleep on and to keep warm. I guess it isn't litter-trained..."

Wanda looked down at the kitten. She noticed, for the first time, its markings. Mostly black with white and orange on it's paws, face, and chest. And an orange tip on its wispy little tail. "I wonder if we could keep it."

"I don't see why not. They didn't give you a 'no pets' rule, did they?"

"No, not explicitly. And I'd hate to put it through any more than its already endured. I couldn't give it up to the humane society."

"It might never find another home," Mort offered.

Wanda smiled. "How would you like to live with us, little cat?"

The cat didn't respond, so Mort went to set the bathroom up. He had hoped Wanda would like the cat.

- - -

That night, Wanda was drifting off to sleep when she heard the cat mew from across the hallway. At first, she ignored it, but it didn't stop. About a minute passed and Mort lifted his head.

"It probably doesn't like being left alone," Wanda said.

"Oh."

Another few mews and Wanda sat up.

"Do you want to let it out?" Mort asked.

"Yes. I can't listen to it cry all night. I suppose we'll have to keep it in here for tonight."

"It's pretty little to be left alone anyway. I'll get it." Mort flung the covers back and left the room. Wanda listened to him cross the hall, open the bathroom door, and pick up the kitten. "You're making a lot of noise for such a little fur ball," she heard him whisper.

Mort came back in the bedroom, closing the door behind him, and set the cat on the carpet. It had been quiet while being carried, but as soon as Mort started walking back to the bed, it began meowing. He looked at Wanda for direction.

She watched the kitten crying and tripping after Mort on its short, awkward legs.

"Here," Wanda said, "bring it up here. It can sleep on a pillow for tonight."

Mort did as she asked, lifting the kitten up awkwardly but gently. As soon as it was being held, it was quiet. Wanda pulled an extra pillow out from behind her own and set it between Mort's and hers. Mort knelt on the mattress and carefully slid the cat off of his hand and onto the pillow. It mewed a few times, but Wanda stroked it while Mort settled back into bed. Once things were still, the kitten pulled itself into a tight sphinx position and was quiet.

Wanda smiled at Mort over the sleeping cat and laid her head back on her pillow. A new addition to her uncertain family. Tomorrow she would figure out what gender it was and give it a name. She'd ask Mort to buy some kitten formula and maybe some litter so they could train it. Always able to fall asleep easier if she had plans for the next day, Wanda was soon in a relatively peaceful slumber.

* * *

Okay, Nyl, you were right. It's a kitty. Witches are just supposed to have cats, you know? And fret not; all the Mort-hate will die down soon enough. But we had to expect Pietro's reaction. I think he just wants to see his sister with some affluent, strong, gentle, mutant man, and Wanda keeps going for the strange ones. Heck, she even had the sexy blue fuzzy one in another dimension. But I digress. Next chapter? I can't give anything away. Just wait and see. ;) 


	10. Chapter 10: New Arrivals Part IV

House of W

New Arrivals

Part IV

It was a girl. Wanda named her Tantomile.

After a week of being fed through a bottle, Tantomile began to eat dry food in small doses (though bottle-feeding had lead to an interesting encounter with Xavier when Wanda had met his telepathic image while feeding a baby-like bundle). Mort and Wanda had been able to litter train her, but she wouldn't sleep on her own yet. Wanda said it was because kittens were used to sleeping in litters.

Mort had to get up very carefully that morning so as not to wake the cat. If the cat woke up, it would wake Wanda up, and he wanted a few moments to himself. Things had been going so smoothly lately. His work around the school was usually flexible, so he could do what he wanted to whenever he wanted to. Wanda seemed happy enough with the cat for companionship while he was away, and Polaris had been over once or twice as well.

Mort crept into the bathroom and quietly closed the door. He dreaded showering. The water was fine, but soap was murderous. He looked down at his arms. They were already dry and his skin was about ready to start flaking off, but the alternative was worse. He shrank at the thought of appearing disgusting before Wanda. He'd never bathed normally, so of course he stank. But in the past it didn't really matter, since there was no one around. Repetitive showers were taking their toll now, though.

He washed quickly. Flaking skin cells made his complexion look even sicklier, but what else could be done? Mort dried off and got dressed. Which reminded him of something else. He might want to get some new clothes. Shopping was not exactly one of his favorite pastimes, so he normally wore the same things until they fell apart. However, his wardrobe was not extensive, and, frankly, he wondered if he might not seem more appealing with trendier clothes. Since he needed to go out anyway, he might as well try to stop and buy some.

He found Wanda sleepily watering her new window plants in the kitchen. "I'm going to head out," he said. "I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Where are you going?"

Of all days to ask. "Just to get a few things. I won't be gone very long." He took his coat and left before she could ask anything else.

- - -

Mort parked his motorcycle and walked up to the glass double doors. Suppressing intimidation, he pushed one open and walked inside. Crap. He was one of the only customers. A well-dressed, balding clerk was already approaching him. _'Don't panic.'_ he told himself,_ 'All they see is the money, and you have it.'_

"Welcome to Westchester Jewelers," the man said. That smile, Mort thought, must have cost him a few thousand dollars in dentists' bills.

"I'm looking for an engagement ring," he forced himself to say.

"We have an impressive selection, I'm sure you'll agree. Right this way." The man turned on his heel and strode toward the center display. Mort followed. The selection was more than impressive; it was overwhelming.

"What did you have in mind?" the clerk smiled.

"Er, I'm not really sure -"

"We have gold, platinum, sterling silver -"

"Gold. The highest karat you can give me."

"Right over here." He pointed to two trays' worth of gold rings.

Mort looked through the glass. They were all diamonds. Of course, diamonds were what were put in engagement rings. But he'd envisioned something red.

"Do you have anything with a red jewel as well as the diamond?"

"We do have a ruby ring with diamond accents. Right over here."

Mort looked where the man gestured. The ring was silver. Wanda never wore silver. "Anything like that in gold?"

"Mm, I don't know if we do. Excuse me for just a moment and I'll ask Tina."

As Mort waited, he realized his palms were sweating. Here he was for real, in the jewelry store, buying a ring. A ring for his Wanda. He pushed away the thought that she might refuse him or laugh at him. Right now he just needed to get the ring and get out of the store.

"As a matter of fact, we do," the sales clerk returned with a small packing box in his hand. "Here we have a ruby as the central stone with three diamonds on either side, set in fourteen karat gold." The man opened the box and showed Mort the ring. The ruby was shaped like a heart.

"I'll take this one."

The man seemed happy enough to place it in a lined little box and walk him over to the payment counter. "Now, we have several payment options. Usually we -"

Mort took his wallet out and laid twenty hundred-dollar bills on the counter. "I'll take care of it today."

"Ah. Alright then. I'll just need your name and address, and I'll print you out a receipt."

As soon as he had the receipt and black little box in his hand, he quickly left the store. Around the corner, by his bike, he knelt on the ground, unintentionally resembling a strange, amphibious gargoyle. He felt sick. Pathetic, he knew, but he couldn't help it. It had taken everything he had to do that. Thank god they had what he wanted and he didn't need to shop around.

Letting go of his plans to get a few more respectable clothes, he carefully put the ring case in his pocket and started up the motorcycle. He'd go back to the house, ask Wanda to come out to lunch with him, take her to the best place in the city, and ...

Right. And ask her.

Easy. Just say the words and wait for her response.

Right. Easy.

- - -

Ten minutes and two blocks later, Mort was sitting in a bar. Just enough to settle his nerves, though. He didn't want to be slobbering drunk when he asked her. That probably wouldn't get a good response. He scratched his arm. Stupid skin-drying soap, like he didn't have enough to deal with. But, at least he'd be clean. Clean and sober.

- - -

Back at the safe house, Mort looked around for Wanda. True to his intentions, he'd only had a single beer, but it hadn't really helped. He stopped at the bathroom. Better brush the smell out of his mouth. It might leave a bad impression. He looked down at the toothbrush in his hand. His hands were actually shaking.

"Mort?" Wanda called. Mort spit out a mouthful of toothpaste and said, "Yeah, it's me. I'll be right out," and mentally added, _'if I don't vomit first.'_ He could still feel the ring box in his pocket. Was he being a tremendous idiot for even trying? If she said no ... how would he live it down?

He found Wanda in their room. "Hi."

"You weren't out long at all."

"No, I, uh, didn't have much to do. I ... was -"

"What's wrong?" Suddenly looking concerned, Wanda got up and went over to him.

"What?"

"You don't look well. What's happened?"

"Nothing, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong."

"Something must have happened, you look like someone's been dancing on your grave. Did you run into anyone?"

"No, Wanda, nothing happened. I'm just ... not feeling well. That's all."

"Well come lie down." Wanda put her wrist to his forehead and lead him to the bed. Sitting him down she said, "You feel feverish. Maybe you're coming down with something."

God, she was so kind. She must love him. She wouldn't act so caring if she didn't. She might say yes. If he asked her the right way, she would probably say yes.

She brushed back his hair. "Why don't you lie down and rest? You look tired."

"No. I wanted to take you out to eat."

"I'm sure it can wait for another time. You should take care of yourself now."

Maybe he shouldn't take her out. Maybe he should ask her here. Maybe ...

They both looked up when they heard a tiny meow.

"I'll take care of her," Wanda said, getting up. "Oh, I forgot. Lorna called while you were out. I'd like to go see her. Would you mind?"

Lunch was definitely out, then. "No, go ahead."

"Will you be alright?"

"I swear, Wanda, I'm fine. Just, will you be back in time for dinner?"

She smiled. "Of course. We can go out then, if you'd like."

That might be better. "Alright."

"Try to rest some. I'll be back in a couple of hours." Before she left, she closed the curtains in the room. Mort listened to her heat a bottle in the microwave for the cat. After fifteen or twenty minutes, he heard her go outside and lock the door. This would give him time to chill out and re-work his plans. Candlelight, maybe a restaurant in the city overlooking the river. That wouldn't be too cliche, would it? She liked that sort of thing, right?

Of course. Everything would be fine.

- - -

Wanda came back when she said she would. When Mort asked about going into the city, though, she seemed uninterested. So he offered to cook instead. That would work. He could make a good meal, although he didn't think they had any candles. But he could still make it work.

For the rest of the day, until evening, they had minimal conversation. Mort didn't trust himself to say anything other than, "Will you marry me," so he tried to keep busy with projects from the school. Wanda seemed occupied with the cat or with her new book. Finally, five o'clock came around, and Mort started dinner.

He kept reciting the words in his head. He couldn't remember being so nervous ever before. Before, whenever he'd tried to win Wanda's attention, he'd been focused on his plan and what he thought would be the outcome. Now he wasn't sure of anything.

They talked lightly while they ate, Mort looking for the perfect time to speak up and ask her. But dinner passed, the plates were washed, and he still hadn't found the nerve. Wanda seemed to see that something was on his mind. She keep looking at him like she was trying to figure something out. Once she even asked if anything was wrong, but he just said he was fine. Finally, when Mort was afraid she'd go back to their room to read, he asked her if she'd come out back.

There was a small deck on the back of the house. Wanda took Tantomile out with her, naming the grass, the clouds, the trees, and everything else that a cat might need to be able to say in English. She'd really taken to the cat, Mort noted. It was a good move to bring it home instead of leaving it where he'd found it, hiding from middle school boys.

Wanda had set the kitten down on the wood floor, and it was intently sniffing, with much head movement. Mort took a deep breath.

"Wanda?" Steeling every nerve he had, he looked into her piercing green eyes. She looked questioningly at him. _'Now or never,'_ he told himself and held the little black box out to her.

"Wanda, will you marry me?"

Wanda looked at the ring. He wanted her to marry him? Her mind reeled with thoughts, questions, and worries. She had been completely unprepared. Marry him? She searched for something to say.

Mort watched her surprise turn into hesitancy. Oh god. She didn't want to marry him. He'd been a fool. Such a stupid fool.

Now he had no dignified exit. Wanda was looking from him to the ring, still speechless. He'd done it all wrong. He'd asked for too much. He felt heat rise into his cheeks and he just wanted to take the box back from her and leave.

"Mort, I ..."

"Don't answer," he said, looking at his shoes. "You don't have to try to say anything nice."

"No, it's not that, Mort, I just - this is so ... sudden. I ... I can't ..."

He went inside, leaving her standing there, holding the box. Stupid, stupid Toad. He took his coat off the hook by the door, went outside, and started his motorcycle.

Recovering herself, Wanda went to the window, kitten in her arms, and watched him drive away.

- - -

The bar didn't look any different than it had a few hours earlier. Except that now the lights were a little brighter and the room seemed a little louder. It was a mutant-friendly place, so he didn't really care about who saw him. Everyone come see the Toad. Can't get what he wants, can't keep what he has. Always has to ask for more.

He was reaching for his latest refill when someone sat down beside him. He wouldn't have taken notice except that the guy pulled the bar stool out with his tail.

"Hello, my friend."

"I'm not your friend, circus boy."

"What brings you out here by yourself?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I was here meeting a friend. He's just left, and I saw you."

"Well you've seen all there is to see, so move on."

"Something that has to do with Wanda?"

Wanda. Toad laid his head on the bar. He didn't even know how the freak show performer knew about Wanda. "I asked her to marry me."

"She didn't say yes?"

"She didn't say anything. Do you know how many years I've waited for her? I've spent the better part of my life trying to get her to notice me. Everything I've earned I've given to her. She didn't care."

"I'm sure she's not so cold as you think she is. You're living together, aren't you?"

"So far."

"She must care for you, then."

"Yeah. Maybe. Maybe she just needed someone to watch her back."

"I think you're doing her an injustice. Consider what it means to her. She's had one failed marriage already, and her husband just died. That's a lot to get over so quickly. It's a lot to risk again so soon."

Mort didn't say anything.

"Give her more time. She must have a lot of pain left to work through."

"Yeah. Poor android husband. I'm gonna miss him too."

"I wouldn't go home with that attitude, Toad. You're in danger of ruining something you may never get back."

"Yeah, thanks for the advice."

From the corner of his eye, Mort watched Nightcrawler walk away. The stupid blue fur ball was probably right. Wanda seemed fine now, but she'd had recently caused the death of a husband she'd loved. And since she was living with Mort and had already given him a quasi-vow, it might not have to do with him. And if he was an ass about it now ...

Mort left a twenty on the bar.

- - -

. Lorna Dane's Quarters .

"So, I'm guessing you don't want to marry him?" Polaris sat next to her half-sister on the couch in her room. Without so much as a call in advance, Wanda had arrived looking distressed. Their previous meetings had been pretty light, but Wanda had told her the entire proposal story outright.

"I don't know," she responded.

"Don't say 'yes' unless you're absolutely sure. Really, Wanda, if you care about him, you want him to know now."

"I don't know what to do. I do care about him. I want to stay with him. But I don't ... I can't be married right now. Everything feels too soon. Even though I also have the feeling that I need to act soon."

"Why do you have to act soon?"

"I don't know. I can't explain it. I just have this feeling that something will change and that I need to make whatever move I'm going to make now. It's like everything's become sudden."

"You've only known him for, what, a couple months?"

"Yes. I know, it seems hasty to say the least. And I don't want to be married again. Not right now."

"Tell him, then. Think about your feelings before you think about his, or else you'll end up trying to please him. Then you'll both be miserable. Don't realize on your wedding day that you don't really want to do this, okay?" Lorna half smiled, and Wanda smiled back.

"I know ... but I hurt him tonight. He's helped me so much, and it only makes sense that he'd want to be married."

"Did living in sin suddenly go out of style?"

Wanda sighed.

"Okay, you care about him. He's been good to you. You could be talking about the guy who sits next to you in English 101. Do you even love this guy?"

"I ..." she was silent.

"Wanda?"

"I'm sorry. I think I'm having a Fiddler on the Roof moment, Lorna. I need to go."

Lorna rose with her. "Don't do anything now that you'll regret later, Wanda."

"That's what I'm going to avoid. Thank you."

- - -

The door was locked when Mort came home, so he had to fight with the key in the dark for a few moments before he got inside. No sooner had he set foot inside the door than a small, shaky meow came out from the darkness. Annoying little cat. Mort flicked the light on, found the cat, and picked it up. And stepped in a small puddle.

"Aw, you went?" The kitten continued to mew as Mort carried it to the kitchen and set it on the linoleum floor. He was wiping the floor when he heard Wanda's key in the door. He'd thought she was asleep in the house.

She came inside and locked the door behind her. "Mort," she said when she saw him. "I'm glad to see you're back."

He swallowed a sarcastic comment. "Yeah. Watch where you step. Your cat had an accident."

"Mort," she said, coming up behind him. "I wish you hadn't left earlier. I wanted to talk to you."

He threw the paper towel away and washed his hands without turning around. Suddenly, Wanda's arms were wrapped around his chest. "I love you, Mort. I know I never say it, I didn't realize it, but I do." She let go, and he turned around to face her.

"I can't tell you how much of a whirlwind this past month has been," she went on. "So much has changed that I feel like my head is spinning. It's been such a short time we've been together, but I really can't think of life without you now. Part of me wants to slow everything down and catch my breath, but another part is telling me to hurry up and act. I don't know which one to listen to."

"It's ... it's not a wedding band," he said. "It's an engagement ring."

She smiled. "Yes. That's true." She handed the ring back to him and held out her hand.

Doing his best to savor the moment, Mort carefully placed it around her finger.

She really did love him.


	11. Chapter 11: New Arrivals Part V

House of W

New Arrivals

Part V

. Attilan .

"What color are the birds on Earth, Father?" Luna looked across the table to Pietro.

"There are all color birds. Any color you want."

"Are there yellow ones?"

"Yes."

"What about black ones?"

"There are black birds, too. Crows, and ravens."

"White ones?"

"White birds are called doves."

Satisfied, Luna went back to the picture she was creating.

"Would you like me to bring you a book of different birds next time I come?"

"Yes. Birds and all the other animals. And the insects, too."

"That would take several books, Luna."

"I can read books by myself now. I can have several books."

Pietro watched the light-haired little girl. She'd been much smaller last time he saw her. He thought about her frequently, but he'd missed her going from a baby to a little girl. _'I'm seven,' _she'd proudly told him when he met her. Seven. It had been seven years since he and Crystal were 'happily' married with a little baby. Thinking about Crystal, it seemed like much longer, but thinking about Luna he wondered how seven years had gone by too fast for him too realize.

He'd planned to come to the moon with his sister. When she'd declined his invitation, though, Pietro went anyway. Crystal had not been the one who ferried him there, so she was mildly surprised to see him alone. He'd explained it, and said that he came to see Luna, with or without Wanda. There had been no prearranged time frame for his visit, so a few days became a week, and a week was now becoming two.

Pietro found the moon rather unstimulating. He knew the Inhumans' city well, and there was nothing new to see. He had nothing to do there except play with Luna, and even that grew tiresome. His conversations with Crystal were brief and on point. Still, he hadn't yet asked to leave.

"When will you come back next?" Luna asked, bringing him back to the room they were in.

"I haven't even left yet, Luna."

"I know. But I want to know when you'll be coming back. So I can be ready."

"I'm not sure when I'll be able to come again. I don't know what will happen on Earth."

"It's not going to be as long as last time, will it?"

He still felt the guilt for not seeing her more often. Part of him was sickened at the thought of turning into his own father, but another part was afraid of it as well. Was it better to let her grow up without his influence, or would a bad influence be better than none at all?

"It won't be that long again. I promise."

"Good."

"Do you want me to bring you anything else from Earth? Besides the books?"

"What else could you bring me?"

A good question. The Inhumans' technology was entirely different from, and far superior to, that of Earth's. So that knocked out most of the usual gifts.

"Would you like clothes? Clothes like the little girls on Earth wear?"

"Yes!"

Crystal wouldn't be happy about that, Pietro knew. She seemed to suspect an ulterior motive underneath Pietro's visit. Truthfully, he had none besides seeing his daughter. But he could hardly be angry at her for thinking it. She was, in her own way, trying to protect their child. And he was growing tired of fighting.

"Is this a good picture?" Luna held up her drawing for him to see.

"It's very accurate, Luna." Pietro said. He knew that Luna didn't remember much about Earth. She had not lived there long enough. And though the time she did spend there was hardly peaceful, she seemed to have forgotten any bad memories about her father's home. Now it was a source of wonder.

"I'm going to find Mama and show her."

"Alright."

Pietro watched her leave the room. She looked so much like Crystal, even at her young age. If she was lucky, he thought, she would take after her mother in other ways too.

- - -

. Lorna Dane's Quarters, X-Mansion .

"You know your brother is going to kill me if you get married before he comes back." Lorna warned.

"He won't be happy no matter what. He already thinks Mort's bewitched me."

"How ironic."

Wanda smiled at the unintentional joke. "Pietro just doesn't realize that things have changed. He remembers Mort the way he was years ago."

"I hope Mort doesn't revert later on." Lorna leaned back on the black couch. "Bad habits don't stay away forever."

"No. It's not like that," Wanda explained. "It's not so much that he's changed into a different person as he's ... come into his own, I suppose. He went through so much as a child, and then with Magneto, he got lost under everything else. Now he's getting better."

"I guess you're not going to tell Magneto. About getting engaged."

"He'd just try to stop it. I've let him be a part of my life long enough."

"Do you have a date yet?"

"No, not by far. But, I think it may be sooner than later. I can't offer any explanation besides this feeling. I just feel like I need to do this soon, or it will never happen."

"You already know what my advice is, but I'm not arguing with you. It's your call."

"Yes. It is. That's why you're the only one who knows so far. I have a favor to ask of you. Will you be the witness to my marriage?"

"You're not going to have a ceremony?"

"I haven't talked to Mort about it yet, but I don't want one. Who would we invite even if we did?"

"Didn't you have a possessive brother last time I checked?."

"I won't let him blame you, Lorna. I promise."

"Yeah, I've heard that line before." Lorna looked up to the ceiling, half-rolling her eyes. "I just don't want to have to try and explain, 'honest, your Honor, it was self-defense.'"

"Homicide doesn't become either of you. I'll tell him when he comes back, and I'll take full responsibility."

- - -

. Attilan .

Crystal didn't look happy. But then, she rarely did. Arms crossed at her ribs, she looked as uncompromising as ever.

"I'm not asking to take her away forever, Crystal," Pietro said. "What's wrong with letting her visit Earth?"

"She's a little girl, Pietro. She doesn't understand some things. You've lead her to believe that Earth is a fairy land when it's really a polluted, warring planet."

"You think I wouldn't take care of her?"

"You and I have very different ideas of how to raise her. Where do you plan to bring her to?"

"I'll rent an apartment near my sisters. Wanda wants to see her again too."

For a moment, Crystal didn't say anything. "She's your daughter too, Pietro. But I don't want you to take her this time. Come back again."

"When?"

"In a week, a month, whatever time you need to make arrangements for her."

"Fine. If that's what you want."

"Have you already told her about your plans?"

"No, Crystal, I thought I'd talk to you about it first." Pietro turned and sped out of the room. How had he and Crystal ever gotten along? He didn't pursue the thought. Instead he thought he'd at least be able to take Luna back to Earth. Luna would never think of him as father who forgot about her.

- - -

. Wanda's Safe House .

Even though the season was quickly turning to spring, it could have been the dead of a dry, windy winter as far as Mort's skin was concerned. His knuckles were chapped and even cut in a few places, which would have probably been bad on a normal person. Mort was not used to his hands feeling so dry. It was like he couldn't touch things properly that way, like he was wearing some kind of fingered body suit made from stiff cotton.

It was too much. He went to the bathroom and opened the sink cabinet doors. Wanda must have some kind of moisturizer thing somewhere. He didn't care if he smelled like lilacs, he just had to get the incessant annoyance to stop. He found something in a white bottle that said 'for dry skin.'

He was slathering it on when Wanda came home. He quickly finished rubbing it into his skin as best he could, put the bottle back, and went out to see her. She was sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hello," he said.

She smiled. "Hello. Mort, did you have any plans for getting married?"

Mort looked at her and sat down. His stomach still knotted in nervousness thinking about the "M" word. "Plans? You mean, for a ceremony?"

"Yes. Did you want to have a ceremony?"

"Well, I guess so. I hadn't really thought about it. Do you?"

"No, I'd rather not have one. I'd rather just get a license and be married."

At least she still wanted to get married, Mort observed. "That's fine." Truthfully, he had a few fantasies about showing the world (and Wanda's family) that he was finally wedding his love. It would have been a recorded accomplishment. But ... whatever Wanda wanted, Wanda would get.

"Had you thought of a date?" she continued.

"No. Why? When are you thinking of?"

"As soon as possible, actually."

Mort suppressed a cough. "What? When do you mean, 'as soon as possible?'"

"I think the earliest we could would be twenty-four hours after obtaining a license."

Twenty-four hours? Was she serious? "Oh."

"I know that's quite soon. I'll understand if you'd like to wait."

"No, no that's fine. I'll take care of it first thing tomorrow. You really want to, this soon?"

"Yes, I want to do it now. Before anyone else finds out and tries to stop it. Lorna wants me to wait for Pietro, but he'll only be unhappy. And I don't like having my personal matters spread around like high-school gossip. I want to be married as soon as possible."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am. I don't have any better reason than that, and I know it's not a very good reason to rush into a marriage. I just _feel_ like this needs to happen now. That is, if you really are willing to stay with me all the way."

"What?" Toad looked almost indignant. "Of course I am."

"I didn't mean it as an insult. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into. I have a brother who won't like you, a father whom I don't like, the Universe's Sorcerer Supreme watching me as a mystical threat, and a family of ghosts, Mort. I'm not a prime catch, anymore."

Mort still seemed offended. "It's not like I'm not about to go fishing around for more or anything."

"I know. I didn't mean it that way. Would the day after tomorrow be alright then?"

"Yes. Of course." God, now he was getting married in one day. Which was good, but sudden. He'd wanted to do things first. He wanted to find a way to get them their own house, more of a reputation at the school, he wanted to have a ring.

Still, he couldn't say no. Wanda would be his and no one would be able to change it.

- - -

. County Courthouse .

. 42 hours later .

Of course, the day epitomizing the achievements of Mort's life couldn't go smoothly. For such a simple plan, he wondered how it ever went awry. He was supposed to meet Wanda and Polaris at the Courthouse at ten o'clock in the morning and be married by the Justice of the Peace. It was not a difficult course of action.

The trouble probably started, Mort reflected later, when he decided to try to get a set of wedding bands before their marriage. The jewelers opened at eight, so there would be plenty of time to buy a common, gold wedding set. When he got to the store, there was yellow tape surrounding it. The store had a minor break in without injuries, but the police still called it a crime scene. So, there went the first option.

He found a set of rings at another jeweler's, but by then he'd lost some time. It was going on 8:30. He wished he'd gotten clothes the other day, because he didn't have anything respectable enough to be married in. Not that it particularly mattered to him, but he wouldn't have Wanda feel the least bit embarrassed at being seen with him. Besides, she had nice things. It would only make sense they both look decent.

The second mistake (or first mistake perhaps, since the CSI Jewelers wasn't his fault), was going to the clothing store. He had no idea why sales clerks offered to help him, as they never had before. Did he somehow look like he would give them a good commission? Normally he couldn't get people to look at him in the street. But, whatever the reason, he suddenly had a thirty-ish woman wearing a skirt suit and a chopstick through her hair asking him how she could help him. Wanting to get out of the store and to the courthouse as soon as possible, he just asked for something he could wear to a formal dinner.

Quick and easy, right?

Irritatingly, the woman seemed intent on taking all day long. Walk around slowly, look at this and look at that. Finally, after a few failing attempts to be nice, Mort took a serious tone. "It's your job to tell me what'll fit and sell it to me. I don't have all day, alright?" After that, he was out of the store in a whole of six minutes with something presentable to wear. It was 9:21.

It wouldn't take him more than twenty or twenty-five minutes to get there, so, God-willing, everything would work out. He'd stop at the house quickly to change and then head straight for the courthouse. He'd be able to make it.

Mort arrived at the courthouse at 9:52. Bypassing the stairs with an all-purpose leap, Mort found Wanda inside. He was relived to see her standing next to Lorna, because he'd been half afraid that something else would happen. But everything was working. Wanda had the license, Mort was well dressed, and Polaris was there as a witness. Finally.

As soon as they walked through the doors and stood before the Justice of the Peace, Mort felt nervous again. This was finally it. He was going to be legally married to Wanda forever. For as often as he'd envisioned it, he was still apprehensive. But he focused on Wanda, beautiful as always in her red dress, standing next to him.

The three of them were asked to show their ID. Wanda had a not-quite-legal driver's license that Xavier had given her when he sent her to the safehouse. Polaris showed hers as well. Mort reached into his pocket for his and felt a frozen, empty fear when his hand didn't find anything.

He left his license at home. When he'd stopped along the way to change clothes ...

Mort looked up with wide eyes at Wanda. "Wanda, I left mine at the house."

She looked concerned, but not angry. She was about to speak when Mort cut her off.

"I'll be right back. I can make it in ten minutes!"

Without looking back, Toad ran outside, ignoring the motorcycle, and leapt up to the first rooftop he came to. It would be faster without traffic, and unless he ran into Spider-man, he'd have the roofs to himself. Of course, the clothes he was now wearing weren't suited for hurdling chimneys, but he just needed to make it there and back without tearing anything. When he ran out of roofs, coming into the suburbs, he took the longest bounds he could along the ground. Stupid, stupid Toad. How could he have forgotten his identification on the day he was supposed to get married?

When he saw the house, for another icy moment Toad wondered if he had the key. But it was there, thankfully. He swung the door open, waking the cat, and stomped into the bedroom. His wallet was on the bed. Before he left, he checked to make sure what he needed was inside. He looked like a mess again, he knew - all that work for nothing - but he didn't have any time to brush up.

- - -

Wanda guarded her watch while Lorna apologized to the court officer for the delay and tried to convince him to wait a few moments more. Everyone looked up when Mort calmly walked back in through the door. He handed his license to the Justice, muttering, "sorry 'bout that." He knew he was a disarrayed, sweaty mess by now, and he looked over to Wanda apologetically.

She was smiling softly at him, though, and held her hand out for his.

Inwardly doubting her judgement, Wanda steadily vowed to be Mort's lawfully wedded wife. It had been a very different scene when she'd first been married, years before, but Wanda put those memories aside. Her new life was taking shape.

Mort was already holding her hand when their vows were said so he put the new ring around her finger, touching the ring with the heart-shaped stone. She was wearing two of his rings now. No one would ever be able to doubt her love for him now, he knew. Likewise, Wanda undid the clasp of the chain that held Mort's ring and re-clasped it around his neck.

Then, in keeping with older tradition, they kissed. Despite the fact that they'd been together for a short time now, it was still one of the first kisses they'd had. He hoped he'd never get used to it.

* * *

Next chapter? 

The proverbial honeymoon doesn't last long.

Also, I'm sorry that this one took so long. Real life stuff suddenly flew into my face and I had to deal with it, and afterwards I slept for a couple days. But the next one is done except for some editing, so you'll see it soon.


	12. Chapter 12: New Arrivals Part VI

House of W

New Arrivals

Part VI

. Lorna Dane's Quarters .

. Two Days Later .

Her dream interrupted by an obnoxious ring, Lorna blindly groped for her cell phone.

"Hello? Oh Wanda, hi. How are - What? Oh, sure. No, I'm not too busy. Is now really a good time? Okay. See you then." She opened her eyes enough to see the "end call" button and pushed her thumb into it. Lorna had been out late the night before, saving the world of course, and hadn't wanted to be disturbed until noon. And since Wanda had _just_ gotten married, she hadn't planned on getting any calls form her.

Lorna slid her feet off her bed and onto the hardwood floor, then pulled the rest of herself into a sitting position. Her newfound older sister was starting to feel like an annoying little cousin. Every time they got together, Lorna would end up counseling, something she wasn't well versed in. The only reason she'd gone along so far was because of the promise she'd made Pietro. The poor man was already going to come back and find his sister married. The least she could do for his sake was keep Wanda company.

Now Wanda wanted to go out for brunch. Lorna stood up, cracked her neck, and went about showering and getting dressed. It would be nice, she thought, pulling the shower curtain back, if someone would at least let her know what was going on with the woman. After the Avengers broke up, she moved nearby the X-Mansion, and instead of joining the team, she abruptly married someone she used to know back in her days as an unwilling mutant terrorist.

But, Polaris conceded, she of all people knew what that good old post traumatic stress could do._ 'Okay,'_ she said to her reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror, _'I'll go easy on her. She's been through a lot. And at least she's not going on a murderous rampage like _you_ did.'_

_- - -_

They went out to restaurant in New York City, which turned out to be a glorified coffee shop with servers and menus.

"You look tired," Lorna said when they sat down.

"I am. Moving and getting married have taken a greater toll on me that I thought they would."

"That's why most people have a honeymoon afterwards. So they don't have to deal with regular life on top of adjusting to a new one. Well, and for other reasons, of course."

"I doubt a honeymoon would make things any better."

There came another flash. That morning, Wanda had woken up before dawn from a nightmare. Throughout the morning, bits and pieces had been coming to her. She couldn't picture the entire dream, or even what it was about. There was an image of a child, but she couldn't describe what it looked like. Just flashes and feelings that didn't make any sense.

"What's wrong?" Lorna sounded concerned.

"Nothing," Wanda said, shaking her head and feigning a smile. "I had a nightmare last night. It's been distracting me."

"You need to take some time off."

"From what? My sole responsibility is taking care of a kitten."

"Then what's on your mind? Is it money, or your marriage, or Magneto?"

"I don't know. It's not really anything that's happening now, even though it feels like it. They're all things that _have_ happened."

"Wanda, that's not ... unprecedented. You saw your friends die."

Putting her fingers to her forehead, Wanda said, "Please, Lorna, I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay. I understand. Really. So, do you know what you want yet?"

Wanda looked back to her menu. Café Mocha, Mocha Latte, Vanilla Latte ... she'd never been much of a coffee drinker. Somewhere inside the restaurant, a child shrieked. In an instant, Wanda's entire nightmare flashed through her mind in perfect clarity.

She drew her breath in and covered her mouth with her hand.

"What is it?" Lorna leaned forward and fairly stood up.

"Nothing, I have to go," Wanda said, taking her purse and heading quickly for the door.

"Wanda, hang on!" Lorna ran after her, ignoring the staring patrons.

Outside, Lorna caught up to her and grabbed hold of her arm. "What's the matter with you?"

"I just, I had a nightmare, I want to go home." Wanda pulled away from her.

"Nightmares don't cause people to run away from lunch. What is your problem?"

"I don't know! I'm afraid of something. I've been avoiding it, but now I don't think I can anymore. And I don't think I should."

"Well that clarifies the situation."

"Lorna, this dream, I know what it was about. I've had it before, but now it's twisted. And, now I think I know what's been going on. Why I felt like something was going to change."

"I give up. Tell me the answer to the riddle."

Wanda pulled one of the exterior metal chairs out from it's table and sat down. "I'm afraid I might be pregnant."

"What? You're _pregnant?" _Lorna sat down across from her. "When did you find this out?"

"This morning, I suppose. I've had the signs, I just attributed them to other things."

"Would this have anything to do with your abrupt marriage?"

"No. I didn't think I was pregnant. I didn't think I could have children. I was told, quite a few times, that I couldn't."

"And you believed it? Doctors are wrong about that all the time."

"It was Xavier who told me ..."

"He's the last person I'd believe. And why on earth did that conversation even come up between you two?"

"It's ... complicated." Wanda lowered her eyes. "I've had children before. Twins. I lost them both."

Lorna had been unprepared for that. "Wanda, I'm sorry." After a few moments, when Wanda didn't continue, she prodded, "And about Xavier?"

"I didn't get over the loss well ... I ..."

"I get the feeling I'm missing out on a lot of this story, Wanda. What happened to your first children?"

Wanda held her forehead with her fingertips. "I couldn't have children with .. The Vision the traditional way. So I used my powers to conceive them, but their souls came from another source. I didn't know that at the time. Dr. Strange didn't know either. They died when I couldn't hold them together any longer, and their souls went back to the source they came from. My teacher, Agnes, placed a spell on me so I wouldn't remember. She thought it was best, because I wouldn't be able to deal with the pain. I can't tell you anymore. Please don't ask."

"Wanda ... I'm so sorry." In a moment, Lorna continued, "Does anyone else know?"

"Several people. Some of the Avengers. I'm honestly not sure how much Mortimer knows."

"Speaking of whom, Wanda, I don't mean to sound insensitive, but you _can_ physically conceive a baby with -"

"I know. And I didn't consciously use any magic, but that won't stop what they'll think."

"How about you go to a real doctor? Someone who still practices actual medicine."

"Oh Lorna, what will I tell Mort?"

"Forget about telling him anything right now. You need to go see an obstetrician and make sure _you're_ okay. Just," Okay, how did one deal with her older half-sister's crisis pregnancy? "Take it one step at a time." Aware that she sounded like a high school health pamphlet, Lorna trudged on. "You've got to know what's going on before you can tell anyone anything, right? So let's go out to a clinic and get the official diagnosis."

Wanda allowed Lorna to take her, and her pregnancy was confirmed. She hesitated at scheduling an ultrasound, but Lorna insisted, saying they could always cancel it later. There was a Starbucks close to the clinic, so Lorna took Wanda there afterward. "I don't understand a few things," she said when they were sitting down again. "Is it that you don't want a baby right now?"

"I don't know whether I would or wouldn't. The problem is that I'll have to tell Dr. Strange and Xavier and Magneto and Mort ... and you think I'd be most concerned with the first three."

"And exactly why do you have to tell any of those guys?"

"I don't have the best record of mental soundness. If Stephen knows that I'm pregnant, I know his first thought will be that I've used my mutant powers to cause this."

"It isn't any of his business what you do with your powers." Then she added, as an afterthought of technicality, "as long as it's not destructive."

"My powers _are_ destructive. I can't control them when I use them. I used to be able to ... but they changed. I ... wasn't always aware of when I caused things to happen and when I didn't. And now I don't know how to be sure."

"What about Mort? Why don't you want to tell him?"

"I don't know what he'll think. I don't think he wants any children. We never talked about it. And ... I don't know."

"What about you?"

"I wish I knew."

"Seriously, if it was nobody else's business, would you want to have a baby?"

"I would always be thinking of William and Thomas," she said softly. "I can't describe what it's like to have two little children and then loose them, and not even remember them for years. And now that I do remember ... I don't even have their graves to visit."

"I can't imagine it, Wanda. But this is different, isn't it? You won't loose this baby because of your powers. You didn't _get_ this baby because of your powers. I think you're entitled to a little peace and happiness by now."

"I don't. I can hardly live with myself most of the time. I can't imagine how I'd raise a child. Thank you for taking me out, Lorna. I should go home now."

"You're not about to go do anything stupid, are you?"

"No. I won't. I'm just going to go talk to Mort. He'll be home soon."

- - -

Mort, walking up the steps to the front door, was going over what he'd say to Wanda when he saw her. He'd re-worked the school security system, which was no small task, and he'd been able to improve it. Just the fact that he was already being allowed into high security areas was something worth showing off. Wanda would be pleased to hear it.

"Hello," he said when he opened the door into the living room. He stopped in his path when he saw how grave she looked, standing there, waiting for him. "Is something wrong?"

Wanda sat down on the couch. "I need to talk to you, Mort."

It was bad. He knew it. She didn't like being married to him? He closed the door and stayed where he was. "What is it?"

Mort could see her forming the sentences in her head, trying to choose the right words. He wished she'd just say whatever it was and be done with it. Finally, eyes on the floor, she said, "I don't know how to tell you this. I'm ..." she looked up at him. "Pregnant."

He stood there. "Wanda ..." was all he managed to say.

"Lorna took me out to a clinic earlier. I'm sure. I know you weren't expecting to hear that. I don't know what else to say; I wasn't expecting it either."

"Well, are you ... how do you feel?" Mort forced the appropriate words out of his mouth.

"I don't know," she said for what felt like the twentieth time that day. "I don't know what to do or what I want. I don't know."

As Mort stared at her, something was slowly dawning in his mind. He was the father. Wanda was pregnant with his child. But before he could realize the achievement, he realized that Wanda wasn't happy. Because she didn't want children? Because she didn't want _his_ children?

Children. That would mean, he'd be a father. Suddenly, the idea wasn't as appealing anymore. And Wanda? Wanda looked as lifeless as he'd ever seen her.

"What do you want?" she asked. It took Mort a moment to realize she was talking about her pregnancy. She expected him to have some kind of clue as to what he wanted? A baby? He didn't want a kid. All he'd wanted was Wanda. Another thought struck him cold. Her brother would absolutely kill him now. And Magneto ...

"Wanda, I don't know. I have no idea. I don't even know the first thing about any of this."

"The first thing is to tell Stephen. I believe he'll have more of a say than either of us. Mort, I'm sorry to throw all of this at you. I hope you don't think I was trying to deceive you."

"No. Of course not. I just don't understand."

"Stephen and Xavier both told me I couldn't have children, that I'd never really been able to. I'm not so sure I believe them now. I think they only told me that so I -" She stopped. "It doesn't matter now."

"It's none of their business wether you're pregnant or not." Pregnant. The word sounded strange when he said it. "They're not in control of your life anymore."

Wanda didn't seem to be listening. "They don't even know we're married yet."

"Wanda, are you listening? Forget about them."

"And Pietro. He'll have a stroke."

Mort, finding nothing kind to say to that, kept quiet.

Wanda absently put her palm to her stomach. "This is the very last thing I expected. But, I suppose I knew it before I acknowledged it. I knew something was changing."

It certainly was, Mort thought. He'd thought he was finally getting his bride. Not two days after they'd been married, there was a potential baby in the works. And, even though he didn't like to admit it, the high and mighty Strange, Xaiver, and Magneto would have their say soon enough.

And Wanda ...

He swallowed his confusion and his small, growing sense of panic and sat next to her, trying to seem calm. "Don't worry about it today. You've found out enough for one day already. Take a break or something and we'll find out some more tomorrow."

Wanda nodded. Of course, he was right. Worrying needlessly wouldn't help things. Tomorrow would care for its own worries. She looked around at the sterile living room. Things had been so different the first time she'd shared such news. So much happier. But she pushed those thoughts back down in their hiding place.

- - -

. Later, 10:00pm .

If only this could have happened at another time. Wanda, brushing her hair in the bathroom, looked at her face in the mirror. It seemed so painfully unfair that now she was pregnant when she wouldn't be able to take any happiness from it. Now, with Stephen and Xavier like wolves at her back, with a husband who didn't want any children, with two children already lost to god-knows-where. Two children, she thought bitterly, who _had_ existed. She might be certifiably insane, but she knew that they'd existed, however supernaturally.

'_My mother must have felt the same way', _Wanda thought. _'After she fled from Magneto and realized she was pregnant. She must have had the same "why now" running through her mind.'_ She set her brush aside and looked down at her stomach. _'Why now indeed.'_

- - -

On the roof outside the bedroom window, Mort sat, blankly staring at the stars. It was a clear night, and not especially cold for the time of year, but he couldn't focus on his surroundings. His mind was somewhere else.

Pregnant. Should he be happy or not? He couldn't see any reason to be happy. Wanda's brother would try to kill him or worse. And the stupid magician would probably get his tights all in a bunch and try to talk her out of having it. Didn't the old man have a life of his own to tend to?

It wasn't Wanda's fault, he knew. She'd believed Xavier and Dr. Strange. But he felt trapped nonetheless. He didn't want any freaking kid. He didn't want any baby bottles or diapers or college tuition payments. He didn't want some snotty little brat taking away from the time he finally had with Wanda. And it wasn't like he could leave now.

But Wanda had to be at least as upset as he was. Unless she did want a baby.

'_I hope you don't think I was trying to deceive you.'_ she'd said earlier.

Well, now he was beginning to wonder.

* * *

And so ends this installment of chapters. Coming up? Baby discussions of course. Will Mort's feelings on the prospect of being a dad change? How will Wanda come to terms with the conflict between her wants and her perceived responsibilities? Will Pietro forgo yelling at Lorna and go straight to killing Toad? And where the heck did Nightcrawler disappear to?

Are you pitying this baby yet?

Thank you for reading, and I will do my best to get as much writing done before school starts as possible.

I hope to have Spider-man make an appearance, Nyl, but sadly not until much later.


	13. Chapter 13: Spring Changes Part I

House of W

Spring Changes

Part I

. Genosha .

Check.

Magneto already knew his next move, and countered the threat with checkmate. A victory.

Of course, playing against himself, he always won, unless he left it at a stalemate. With a thought, he put the pieces back to their starting places, stood, and walked to the open balcony overlooking his ruined nation. The dawning sunlight was reflected in all the twisted metal that lay in the destruction. Not so much as a bird moved among it.

He leaned on the balcony's rail, staring off into the torpid dawn. It had been weeks since he'd heard anything of Wanda, Pietro, or Lorna. He'd known that Wanda wouldn't speak to him, but he'd hoped for at least word back from his youngest daughter. He didn't know where Pietro was. None of it mattered, though. He'd thrown away chance after chance at having a family. And, as always, he had work to turn to. Genosha was healing, and staggering to a stand once again.

And if he had to help her to her feet alone, he would.

- - -

. Wanda's Safehouse .

Wanda sat out on the back porch watching Tantomile stalk the bugs in the grass of the back yard. The shaky little kitten Mort had brought home only a few weeks before had grown into a very practical young cat. As soon as the weather grew warmer and more mice appeared, Wanda had little doubt that Tantomile would be laying her kills at the door. She had a serious mind for hunting.

Mort hadn't said much before he'd left that morning. He wasn't cold, just quiet. Wanda knew he was still unsettled about the baby. He clearly didn't want children, but Wanda wasn't sure what that would result in. Would he leave? Or would he want her to get rid of the baby? She moved her hand to her abdomen. The thought had more than once crossed her mind to give the baby up. She could hardly be considered a fit parent, but at least she was something. If Wanda gave the baby away, she wouldn't be able to make sure it was cared for. What would keep her child from growing up the way she had?

Tantomile suddenly snapped her body around to face the house and crouched down. Wanda listened and heard someone quietly coming up the driveway. If it was Mort, she would have heard the motorcycle, and she wasn't expecting Lorna. She walked down the steps and looked around the side of the house.

"Nightcrawler," Wanda said, surprised to see, for the first time in months, an insouciant face. She smiled.

"Forgive me for coming by without calling you first, Ms. Maximoff."

Wanda met him on the side of the house. "Please call me Wanda. Come sit out back with me." she said, leading him around to the porch.

"Then you must call me Kurt," he said. He stopped as Wanda began to climb the porch steps and looked at Tantomile. The kitten was crouching, wide-eyed, in the grass. Kurt lowered himself a little and stared back at her. For a moment, neither moved. Then Kurt stood up and followed Wanda. "I see you have a cat."

"Yes. Mortimer found her." Wanda brushed a pine needle off of her sleeve, wondering why Nightcrawler came to see her, and, for that matter, how he knew where she was living.

As though in response to her thoughts, Kurt explained, "I spoke to Lorna and used my charms to persuade her to give me your address."

Wanda laughed.

"Now that you're living here, will you be joining the X-Men?"

"No," Wanda answered him swiftly. "I'm just living here with Mort. He's the school engineer now."

"Ja, I've met him. So you're retired then?"

"At least for the time being. To be honest with you," she said, looking dutifully embarrassed at being honest, "I'm not very well."

"I'm sorry to hear it." He perched on the wood railing. "What's wrong?"

Wanda sat down in her chair again. "I'm pregnant."

There was no masking his surprise. "I'm sorry that it's not a cause for congratulation," he recovered. He'd heard about her recent marriage from Lorna, but he'd been unaware of anything else.

"I'm not unhappy with the fact itself," she elaborated, smoothing her skirt, "just the timing. Mort's not happy, and I can't blame him. He wasn't expecting children. I can't think of anyone who'll be glad to hear the news."

"I'm glad. You would make a wonderful mother, Wanda."

"Thank you."

"Then," he approached the topic delicately, "are you planning to keep it?"

"Yes, absolutely. I just don't know what will happen beyond that. It's a very difficult situation. I'm sorry to tell you all this. It's so rude of me."

"Please, don't be sorry. I'm always eager to help a damsel in distress. What is it that's keeping you unhappy?"

"It's just been a difficult time. And," she added, "I've been having the same nightmare ever since I became pregnant. I'm not sure what to make of it."

"Nightmares during pregnancy aren't very uncommon, though, are they? What is yours about?"

"I don't know where I am, but I see my - I see children, twin boys, and the Avengers. Then things start falling apart. Just literally falling apart at the seams like the world was sewn together. I see Hawkeye dying, even though I wasn't there at the time ... and the boys too. They dissolve into nothing. Everyone else is standing there, hurt and crying over the losses."

"That sounds like you're remembering what happened to The Avengers, Wanda."

"It does, but I wasn't there. I ... but I knew what was happening, I suppose. I didn't have any conscious idea, but I must have known."

Kurt spoke gently. "Do you feel guilty because you lived, Wanda?"

"I feel guilty because I caused it," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be saying this. But, you're a priest, aren't you?"

"Well, I thought I was, but it's a long story. If there's something you want to tell me, Wanda, I will keep your confidence."

"It'll be a hard one to keep."

"What is it? What's troubling you?"

"Kurt, I killed my friends," her voice was low.

"Hawkeye and The Vision?"

She nodded.

Kurt kept an even face. "How?"

"I still don't know for sure. I was with Iron Man at the time, but ... my powers grew beyond my control. I don't know why I would have done that. I don't know why I killed and hurt the people I loved so much. I didn't even know I'd done it until much later, when Xavier woke me in Genosha."

"Wanda," Kurt leaned forward and gently took her hand, "You're telling me that your powers are what caused the destruction of the Avengers?"

Wanda didn't respond.

"What happened to you after that?"

"Magneto brought me to Genosha. At first I didn't even remember the night Carol confronted me. I couldn't control anything. I slept most of the time, either on drugs or under Xavier's control. I hated to be awake anyway, with so many horrible thoughts and memories. I still try not to think about it. Now I can control it to the point where I don't influence things unconsciously, but nothing more. And ... I've wished I could die so many times."

"Have you spoken to anyone else about this?"

"No. Who could I tell?" Then she added, "Mort knows, but I didn't tell him. I don't know how he found out."

"Wanda, you can't deal with this grief alone. You need to see someone, a psychologist, someone."

"No. I shouldn't have even told you."

"Wanda," he sprang down from the rail and knelt in front of her, lifting her chin so he could see her face. "You cannot think that this was truly your doing, something that came from your will."

"What else can I think? If it was just a random output of power, why the Avengers? And why Hawkeye and my husband? Why the people I loved so much?"

"I don't know," he said, lowering his hand. "Perhaps because they were the ones you would go to for help. Perhaps because you had strong connections to them. Wanda, it's a horror enough to live through such a thing, nevermind knowing that your powers were at the root of it. You have to have someone to help you through this. You'll go mad living with it alone."

"It's a little late for that."

"It will do you better than keeping such a secret to yourself. I know someone. Someone who is trustworthy."

"I don't even care so much if the world knows. I just ..."

"If I arrange for you to see her, will you go?"

Wanda nodded. "Yes."

"Then I'll call her and give her your name."

Wanda thanked him, and they spoke for a little longer before Kurt rose to leave. Wanda thanked him and saw him off, then lifted Tantomile out of the grass and brought her inside. Hopefully, she thought as she shut the door behind her, she'd be able to see Kurt again. She'd always liked what she'd known about him.

Still, she wasn't sure why he'd come in the first place.

- - -

. Attilan .

"Do you have to leave? Why can't you live on the moon with us?" Luna held onto one of Pietro's hands with both of hers.

"I have to go back to Earth and take care of a few things. But I'll be back before long. I promise."

"How long?"

"One week."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. And I'll have a surprise for you."

"The books?"

"No. Something you don't know about yet."

"Really? What?"

"I can't tell you yet, or it won't be a surprise. Now let me go. The sooner I can go back to Earth, the sooner I can come back to see you again."

Luna surrendered his hand easily with the promise of a surprise.

Crystal had been silently standing by with Lockjaw. Pietro went over to her and turned to look back at his daughter.

"I love you, Father," she smiled.

For a moment, Pietro was surprised, and didn't know what to say back. But he smiled as well and said, "I love you too, Luna."

- - -

. Lorna Dane's Quarters, X Mansion .

Lorna watched the metal legs of her coffee table writhe in her own irritation. Xavier, in his translucent form, noticed it too.

"Lorna, I'm asking you this out of concern for your sister."

"If you're that concerned, Professor, ask her yourself. You and Magneto can stop coming to me for information about Wanda. I'm not your spy, and I'm not too fond of either of you right now."

"We are trying to help Wanda."

"I'm not that naive, Professor. It may have taken me a while, but I've figured out what 'help' means around here. And I'm not going to 'help' you 'help' Wanda." She stared him down until Xavier gave in.

"If that's your decision."

"It is. Be sure to tell my father the same."

Lorna watched him disappear. She then put her table back to it's normal shape and picked up her phone to give her sister a heads up.

- - -

. Wanda's Safehouse .

Tantomile sat at Wanda's feet while she watered her plants on the kitchen windowsill. She could hear Mort in the livingroom, working on something for the school. She bit her lip as she thought of what to say to him. She set the measuring cup on the counter, picked up the cat, and walked to the livingroom doorway. He didn't look up.

"Mort, I know it's not what you wanted, but surely you could come like the idea of having a baby."

Mortimer set the small piece of machinery down on the floor, his shoulders drawn together as though subtly defending against a blow. "It's not that I don't want the kid," he began slowly. "I just don't want to be its father. I can't - I don't know how to do that. I don't even know what good parents are supposed to be like. And, you know it'll hate me for giving it my genes. And I hate myself thinking that I'll pass some of this onto a kid."

"Don't think that way, Mort. It's not true." She set the cat on the back of the couch and sat down next to him. "First of all, I think you'll be a very good father."

He looked at her, waiting for the sarcasm to follow.

"If you care enough to want better for your child than what you think you can offer, you're in a good starting place. And as to your genes," she took his webbed hands, "things are different now than they were when we were young. We live a walk away from a school exclusively for mutant children, full of children with physical mutations. Our child won't be the minority like we were. It'll have mutant teachers that we never had. And it'll have two mutant parents who'll love it without regard for any unusual abilities. We'll be able to give this child the life we didn't get."

Mort still looked uncertain, but Wanda had given him a few new thoughts. Although, simply keeping their child in the house would have been an improvement on how his parents treated him. But, he mentally admitted, their child would be able to go to the school, where no human would be able to torment it. And even a father like him would still be a father. Parents who didn't abandon it. Parents who ...

Loved it? Mort loved Wanda. There was really never anyone else he'd cared for. Magneto, once, but Toad was now disgusted at the thought of him. Now he didn't feel anything toward the invading embryo. How did Wanda already love it? It was just a multiplying mass of cells, and she already loved it.

Wanda spoke up, "This is your child too, Mort."

Yes, his. His own flesh and blood, though the thought didn't do much for him. What did affect him was the fact that it was _her_ child. It would be part him, but it would also be part Wanda. He could have cared for Wanda's first children, for no reason but that they were of her. So, love was possible.

"Mort," she interrupted his revelation. "Lorna called me a little while ago. Xavier's on my trail again. I have to tell Stephan about the baby. If I let this go on any longer, it'll become worse than it is."

Damn Stephen Strange. "Alright. I'm coming with you."

* * *

To Be Continued, dot dot dot.

Next: Wanda attempts to explain things to Stephen (duh). Plus, Mort has a new obsession.

Nyltiak, I laughed so hard at your comment about Pietro, Magneto, Xavier and Strange playing chicken on the railroad tracks. Such a visual! But then, of course, I ended up thinking about it a little too much, and I had to figure out how that would go. Pietro would show his superiority by running within a centimeter of the oncoming train and then running back. Dr. Strange would probably summon the souls of all the people who died in train wrecks to help him defeat the train. Magneto would stand there, bored and annoyed at how painfully easy it'll be for him to stop the train, while Xavier, all the meanwhile, is frantically rolling away from the train (and have you ever tried to roll a wheelchair on railroad tracks? 'Tain't easy).


	14. Chapter 14: Spring Changes Part II

House of W

Spring Changes

Part II

"I'm sorry I haven't been out to see you lately," Stephen apologized as he received Wanda and Mort in his conference room.

"No need to be sorry, Stephen. But there are a few things I think you will want to know," Wanda said, sitting next to Mort and speaking in her professional manner.

"What might those be?" Stephen asked, calmly probative.

"To start with, I'm pregnant." Without giving Stephen time to recover himself, Wanda went on. "It was entirely a surprise, and I'm keeping the baby. You might also want to know that Mort and I were married before I found that out. And lastly, I'll be seeing a psychotherapist starting tomorrow."

Dr. Strange's face looked much graver than it had a moment before, but he maintained his composure. "Wanda... that's quite a lot. You seem quite sure about this. These are big changes, are you sure you don't want to think about this a little longer?"

"I am quite sure. The ink on my marriage license is well dried, Lorna took me to have a pregnancy test, and I have an appointment with Dr. Yeager tomorrow morning."

"Wanda, please consider -"

Toad spoke up. "Didn't you hear her? She said she's sure."

Dr. Strange regarded Toad with a discerning look. Slowly he said, "Yes, I heard her."

"If there's nothing else you'd like to say to me, Stephen?" Wanda said, standing with Mort.

"No, Wanda. Not right now. But perhaps you would allow Mortimer and I a moment."

Wanda reached for Mort's hand. "I think," she said, looking at Stephen, "whatever you have to say you can say to both of us." Mort looked down at her hand and then back up at her.

"Another time, then," Stephen surrendered. He personally saw them to the door, and then went to his inner sanctum.

- - -

. Genosha .

Startled, Xavier half-woke to see the glowing, unearthly form of Dr. Strange.

"Forgive my intrusion into your sleep, Charles. I felt it was urgent."

Xavier pulled himself up, becoming more fully aware. "It's about Wanda then?"

"Yes. She's just left me. And she gave me some rather surprising news."

"Please don't keep up the suspense."

"She says she's married and pregnant."

"What? Is she?"

"I believe so, though I haven't checked. The Toad was with her, and she said Polaris can confirm her pregnancy."

"From what I understand, all the medical science in the world cannot disprove her pregnancies."

"That may be true. DNA testing might, since she believes her child to be genetically related to both her and Mortimer."

"And what do you think this will do to her?"

"She says she's seeing a psychotherapist now, perhaps it isn't all bad news. I'll look into all of this immediately, Charles."

"Please do, doctor." Xavier watched him disappear and put his hand to his forehead. "What will I tell Eric?"

- - -

Magneto took the news better than Charles thought he would. He was still when he heard about his daughter's marriage, and he softened slightly when he heard about the therapist. Xavier was very careful then, when dropping the largest bomb.

"There is something else," he said, trying not to drag out the blow. "She seems to be expecting."

Gradually, Eric sat upright in his chair and gripped the arms more tightly. "Expecting _what?_"

"A baby, Eric." He could see his friend grit his teeth through tight lips. "Dr. Strange is looking into everything now."

Eric rested his forehead on his fist. "_Now_ he's looking into it." Then he muttered, "she should have been here."

"There's nothing we can do about it but wait and see what Dr. Strange tells us."

"Yes, Charles, wait, wait, wait. Wait for what? Another catastrophe? For her to finally loose all reasoning? I don't like waiting for things to happen."

"I know you want to help her, but you know she doesn't respond well to either of us."

Magneto didn't answer.

- - -

Pietro knocked and waited. He waited for two minutes. Wanda must not have been home. Probably out with that Toad. It didn't matter; he'd see her later. He could go see Lorna now.

He found her a few moments later, sitting outside the mansion on a bench in the shade of a tree. She had her notebook computer with her.

"Lorna," he said.

She jumped when she heard him. "Gees, Pietro, try not to sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry."

"I see you're back. How was whatever you left to go do?"

"I went to see Luna. It was fine, I suppose." He took a seat next to her.

"Oh."

"Wanda isn't home yet."

Lorna cringed. She knew that Wanda wasn't at home. She'd gone out to see her therapist. The fact that Pietro hadn't talked to her yet meant that Lorna was the only thing between him and a seizure. "Oh, yes, she's out."

"Where?"

"At her therapist's," Lorna tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"She has a therapist? Someone from Dr. Strange?" He already sounded angry.

"No, not from him. It's someone Nightcrawler knows well. She's a very well reputed doctor. Wanda wanted to go see her."

Pietro considered that while Lorna chatted away at him. If this woman could help Wanda, it might be all right. Maybe it would mean that Strange and Xavier would finally keep their distance from her. Pietro looked at Lorna when she suddenly fell silent. She was looking at him with her signature nervous smile.

"What?" He demanded.

"What what? I just said -"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why does something have to be wrong?" This wasn't going the way Lorna had planned. "Well, there are actually a couple little details you might want to know about ..."

"What?" Pietro was instantly in her face.

Lorna pushed him away. "Don't kill me, okay? I looked after her just like you asked me to, Pietro, but she wouldn't wait for -"

He stood and grabbed her wrist. "Tell me what's wrong!"

"She married Mort." Lorna said quickly and tensely waited for his response.

"She what! Married him? How could you let her do that? I asked youtomakesureshewasokayand - "

Lorna couldn't understand him after that. If this was his response to his sister's marriage, Lorna groaned at her prediction of how he'd take the _other_ news.

"Pietro, she knew you wouldn't be happy. I couldn't get her to wait for you! I tried." Afraid that he'd bolt away to find her, Lorna yelled, "Shut up, okay? There's more!"

Instantly he stopped and stared at her with his icy blue eyes.

"Heh ... Now, she only realized after she was married, but Wanda's also ... gestating at the moment."

"She's what! Pregnant? With him? You let her get pregnant with his child?"

Lorna moved her notebook aside and stood to face him. "What was I supposed to do, Pietro? Camp out in their bedroom?"

"You could have stopped them from getting married!"

"When was the last time _you_ were able to stop your sister from doing something? She's pretty strong-willed from what I've seen."

"You don't understand it, Lorna!"

"I understand that you hate his guts and have an overdeveloped sense of protection. At least she's _married_ and pregnant."

"You think that makes it better? Look at who she's married to!"

"_What_ is so wrong with Mortimer? He seems like a decent guy to me. He takes her out, buys her jewelry, he even got her a cat, Pietro. What more do you want in your sister's man?"

"That's not what he's like! It's a facade! He's lying to her!"

"Well unless you plan to drag Wanda down to the courthouse and try to have her marriage annulled, there's not much you can do about it now, so you might consider supporting her."

Pietro gave her a disgusted look, which she wasn't used to seeing from him. "I don't want to talk about this now," he said, and disappeared before Lorna could respond.

She slumped back down on the bench and dragged her notebook back to her lap. No wonder Wanda needed therapy.

- - -

. Wanda's Safe House .

. Five Days Later .

Wanda locked the bathroom door and sat down against the tile walls. She held a towel against her face to dampen the sound of her crying. Mort would only be worried if he heard her, and there wasn't anything he could do. Between her first week of counseling and her sixth week of pregnancy, Wanda felt like a complete, emotional train wreck. The psychotherapist, Dr. Yeager, had started off slowly, but even the simple task of going over her past brought Wanda to tears.

Dr. Yeager, Wanda discovered, was a great believer in self-healing. She didn't like to prescribe drugs (not that Wanda could have taken them while pregnant anyway). So their sessions mostly consisted of Wanda talking (and crying), and Yeager listening. There were many things that Wanda had 'forgotten' without realizing, and remembering was like a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. But she had the promise of being well someday if she went through it all.

- - -

Mort was researching.

It was something he did well. He had the patience for it. While Wanda was in their room, Mort was online looking up the details of pregnancy. He was surprised by how much he didn't know, but then, it wasn't something he'd ever had reason to learn about before. Wanda's baby already had a heartbeat. He also happened upon the information that Toxoplasmosis was something pregnant women could get from cleaning out a cat's litter. He would tell Wanda and make sure he was the only one who took care of Tantomile.

He learned that the first 'trimester' was the most likely time for miscarriages. They would be able to find out the sex at about five months. He learned the facts about morning sickness, mood changes, cravings, and weight gain. Since Wanda had twins before, he looked how they worked and where they came from. Fraternal twins, he learned, could run in families.

From the other end of the house, he heard Wanda stifling a sob. He closed out the windows. It seemed like she was always crying now. He'd wake up at least once every other night to her trying to be quiet as she choked in her tears. At first, when they were living together in her apartment, he hadn't thought about it much. If she woke up in a nightmare or started crying, he appreciated the chance to help her. He wanted to make her better. Now, even though he felt like a heel for it, he was getting tired of it. He wondered if the crying would ever end.

He sighed when he heard Wanda cough. _'You're such an ass, Toad.'_ he told himself. At least Wanda _could_ cry. At least she was trying to get better. And being pregnant on top of everything... She probably didn't even need his pathetic help. She'd survived before. But, he hadn't really needed anyone either, had he? And now he had Wanda to soothe his fears. Like Wanda had him.

He pushed his chair out from the desk and walked down the hall to the bathroom, ashamed that he'd just been so selfishly irritated at her hurts. What an ass. That was his Wanda crying all alone, after all. She'd never be alone again if he could help it.

- - -

Pietro pushed the door open, and Luna looked past him into the room. He had paid for a six month lease on the two bedroom apartment in Westchester, away from greater pollution of New York city. He would be careful to watch Luna and make sure she didn't react to it.

Now, Luna trotted inside the living room, set her travel case down next to the single couch, and looked around the room.

"Do you like it, Luna?" Pietro asked.

Luna looked out the window that stretched from floor to ceiling, showing the trees that lined the street of the apartment complex. "I like this room," she said. "Which room will be mine?"

Pietro led her to the first bedroom, which was furnished with a desk and a loft bed. "This one." He saw her smile at the bed.

Luna climbed the ladder to the top and looked down at her father. "I like this room too," she said.

Good. She approved. "Unpack your things and get ready for bed, then," he said. Luna looked disappointed at not being allowed to stay up, but Pietro knew it was already past her bedtime. Crystal had been very clear about certain things like bedtime.

Luna did as she was told, and Pietro went to his own room and sat down on the double bed. At least Luna was happy so far, he thought. That was one good thing. But, turning to other situations, his thoughts raced through his mind almost faster than he could think about them. If his sister was pregnant, it was possibly due to her powers and a lapse in her ever-fluctuating sense of reality, or it might be due to a more normal process. The latter was hardly better than the first. But, despite his dislike of the sorcerer, Pietro was planning to pay him a visit and find out. Luna would like to see the city anyway.

* * *

Author's Note:

There will be no water-polo, okay? You're just going overboard now. I could see lawn croquet, possibly even darts, but water polo? No. Just, no.


	15. Chapter 15: Spring Changes Part III

House of W

Spring Changes

Part III

Luna didn't understand the circus at first. Of course, Pietro should have explained it to her beforehand. Those were normal people who had to train to do those things. The trapeze artists couldn't fly, the fire-eaters weren't predisposed to eat fire, and the animals weren't intelligent like Lockjaw. Needless to say, although she enjoyed the spectacle, the awe was lost for most of the show. Though she had enjoyed the clowns.

After the show was over, Pietro bought Luna a cone of cotton candy, which she ate on the bus on the way back to New York city. Pietro went to talk with Dr. Strange and left Luna to with Strange's assistants. Because his daughter was still withing hearing distance, Pietro kept his temper in check. The doctor said that he didn't know much about Wanda's pregnancy, and that he was hesitant to find out because her mind was still in such a fragile state.

That was it. They had given up on her again.

After Dr. Strange, brought Luna to the X-Mansion to see Lorna and Wanda. He didn't really want to see his sister; he had no idea what to say to her. She didn't want to hear his advice, so what could he do? Truthfully, Luna was his excuse to see Wanda without having to really talk to her. He'd asked Lorna to arrange the meeting between all of them at the school. The meeting was civil on the surface and awkward beneath. Pietro excused his daughter and himself after a strained fifteen minutes.

Luna seemed to be growing restless after being out for hours, so Pietro took a bus back to their apartment. He gave Luna the window seat.

"When will you come back to see me again," Luna asked, turning away from her view of New York.

Pietro looked at her before he understood that she was asking, again, how long he'd stay away once he brought her back to the moon. Today was her last day on Earth. For a while. "I'm not sure. You're mother and I need to talk about it."

Luna sighed. "Do you and Mama argue now because you live on Earth?

"No, it's - it's more than that." Pietro hadn't known that Luna was aware of he and Crystal arguing.

"What is it? Why don't you live on the moon with us? Why aren't you and Mama married anymore?"

"Luna, it isn't easy to explain. There are a lot of reasons."

"You're always angry at her now. And she's angry at you. What did you fight about?"

"Luna," he said, "this isn't something we should be talking about right now. You should talk to your mother about it."

Luna slumped back into her seat. "She'll only tell me the same thing. Neither of you want to talk about each other."

Pietro had no idea Luna had picked up on so much. "I ... it's because we don't know what to say."

"One of you did something bad, didn't you?"

Pietro was tempted to say yes, but he held back. Calling her mother a whore wouldn't do anything good. He'd never thought Luna would ask about why he and Crystal weren't married any longer. But then, divorce on Attilan wasn't common. "Don't worry about it, Luna. We both still love you." After he said it, Pietro was surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth, even though they were true.

- - -

. Attilan .

"Will you be staying?" Crystal asked.

"No," he said, turning to look at her. "I have to go back. My sister."

"Is Wanda alright?" Crystal seemed genuinely concerned. She and Wanda had been close.

"No," was Pietro's simple answer. Crystal didn't push the matter. She and Lockjaw returned Pietro to his apartment and left him there. Once alone, Pietro sat down on the couch. The apartment already seemed empty without little Luna in it.

- - -

. Department Store .

. Three Weeks Later .

Mort was uneasy being out in public, especially looking at baby items with Wanda. People were cruel enough to him alone, but he knew they could be especially bigoted toward mutant "breeders." Wanda didn't seem aware of any stares they attracted, and, in fact, Toad realized they seemed fairly unnoticed in the store. Wanda moved past the furniture section, but paused by the books.

"My foster mother used to tell stories to Pietro and me," she said, lifting a fairy tale off one of the shelves. "I can't remember most of them now, but I remember her telling them. I used to love listening to her."

Mort couldn't think of anything to say. The nuns at the orphanage rarely read anything to the growing group of children, and no one ever read to him personally.

Wanda put the fairy tale back and picked up a baby name book. "Did you have any names in mind?" she asked, fanning through the pages.

Names? He hadn't thought of it. "As long as it's not Mortimer, I don't care."

Wanda stopped fanning the pages and looked at him, disheartened.

"No, I mean, I care, but I just don't mind one way or the other. Not that it isn't important, I'm just not good with that sort of thing, that's all. What name do you want?"

"Well," she said, closing the book, "I was thinking of naming it after my mother, if it's a girl. Though her name was Magda, which is a little out of fashion. But, I thought, we could always call her Maggie."

Maggie was a cute name, he thought. He actually hadn't known that Wanda knew who her mother was. The name probably meant a lot to her, and it didn't bother him, so he told her he liked it.

"And, if it's a boy," she continued, beginning to smile, "I thought of naming him after my brother. But perhaps instead of Pietro, we could use Peter."

Now Mort shielded his disgust. He didn't think he'd be able to call the baby Peter, knowing that it came from the highbrowed Pietro. But how could he tell that to Wanda without sounding like an ass? "That might be nice, to keep a family name. Uh, are there any other 'Pietro' names besides Peter?" There. Nice and smooth.

"Hm." Wanda flipped through the book until she reached the P's and scanned the page. "There's Pierce. That's an English form."

English. Was she trying to include him? Actually, Pierce didn't sound like such a bad name. Kind of sharp. The kind of name a bright, popular kid would have. "Sure," he agreed. "Pierce sounds good."

Wanda smiled, closed the book, and fit it back between the other books on the shelf. She'd really thought about this, Mort realized. And she liked him being a part of it. He was aware of catching some of her glow-y kind of excitement about the baby. Maybe this could all really be good. The kid might not look like him. In fact, he hoped it would inherit everything that was important from Wanda.

They left the store without buying anything (it was too early to make any concrete plans), and Mort quietly moved his fingers towards Wanda's hand. She smiled and took them in hers. Walking through the parking lot, Mort didn't care about what anyone else might be thinking of the sight they made. He had everything.

- - -

. X-Mansion .

"Are you still worried about her?" Scott asked from the bathroom doorway, looking at Emma's reflection in the sink mirror.

"They're hiding something from me," she answered, continuing to brush her hair. "I don't like being left out on secrets."

"What could they be hiding? Wanda and The Toad are both living right here."

"I didn't find out that she was married until after the fact. And if Xavier thinks he can keep me sated by sending her to a shrink, he's wrong."

"He knows what he's doing, Emma. The Professor wouldn't keep the students or any of us at risk. You know that."

Emma turned around and looked him in the visor. "It would be one thing if he was here, and if he could see the students' every day. That far away, in Genosha, and he'll start thinking in the abstract. Xavier has one great flaw, Scott, and that's his optimism. With Magneto's influence, he's beginning to think everything can go back to normal."

"Why do you think it can't? Some of the X-Men have gone through the same things. _I've_ been through it. We're all still here."

"There's a difference between the X-Men and Wanda, darling." Emma leaned forward and draped her arms over his back. "Our powers all have limits. Hers don't."

- - -

. Wanda's Safe House .

Mort rubbed a cut on his knuckle. Despite embezzling some of Wanda's moisturizing lotion, his skin was not much better. His hands especially were beginning to take on a deathly color from all the parched skin. He suddenly realized Wanda was looking at him. Reflexively, he crossed his arms to hide his hands.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

"Yeah. Just my hands."

She held her hand out to see. Mort unfolded his arms and laid one of his hands in hers.

"It's probably just from the cold weather," she remarked.

"It's -" he stopped himself. _'Don't tell her it's from bathing, stupid!'_

"What?"

"It's from the soap," he admitted. She didn't seem to understand, so he embarrassedly elaborated. "I don't usually use soap. It does this to my skin."

Thankfully, Wanda showed no hint of disgust. "You should try something else instead of soap."

She stood led him to the bathroom and took out a bottle from underneath the cabinet. He'd seen it before, but he hadn't thought to use it. "Try this instead. It's raspberry scented, but we could get another kind."

Mort accepted the bottle from her. The red liquid inside looked like soap to him, but he wouldn't disagree with her. "Thanks."

Wanda smiled and leaned over to kiss him on the forehead.

God, Mort thought, he loved it when she did that.

- - -

It was the kinkiest thing they'd ever done, and they weren't doing anything besides rising shower gel off of each other. But still, Wanda wasn't accusing him of being a pervert. Of course, he didn't know if he'd be able to keep his perverted thoughts at bay much longer, what with Wanda's straightened curls flanking her dripping skin.

Wanda gave a subdued smirk and lifted a dripping finger to brush his hair out of his face. He didn't respond. Instead he brushed his hair back himself and moved his shoulder under the showerhead to wash another spot of foam away. He tried to see if Wanda was put off, but he couldn't tell. No, she was definitely colder now. She turned her attention to herself and rinsed her hair. Damn. He'd done it again.

Mort had been avoiding anything bedroom-oriented lately. He would never had believed it, even if he'd gone back in time and told his past self that he'd one day be married to The Scarlet Witch and would avoid sleeping with her, he would not have believed it. But it was true. And it wasn't because he didn't want to, or that he didn't think about it all the time. It was ...

Wanda turned her back to him and reached for the faucet handles.

"Wanda," he said, touching her back. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him.

He didn't know what to say. Sorry? "I'm ..."

"It's because of the baby," she said, more as a statement than a question.

"I ... it's not ..."

Wanda turned the shower off and stepped out.

"Wanda, no, it's no - I'm not," he gave up. Wanda took her towel and went to the bedroom. Left alone in the shower, Mort reached for another towel, dried off and followed her into their room. She was already taking a new set of clothes out of their bureau, and he felt embarrassed, standing in front of her with only a towel on. He was afraid of what Wanda was thinking. He _knew_ what she was thinking.

"Wanda," he began again, feeling a blush of shame seep out over his face, "it's not like that. I don't, I never meant that, what I said ..." Wanda didn't look up at him. Mort had replayed that horrible moment of that day in his head a thousand times. His grand plan, years ago, to take her away from her robot husband and make her his Toad queen. He'd successfully beaten her husband as well as Spider-man, and then he'd gone for her. Of course, he'd known she was pregnant, but when he'd seen her...

One psychiatrist had later told him that he had a fixed, imaginary idea of Wanda, and that's why he couldn't accept her being anything other than that idea. Whatever it was, when he'd seen her, he'd said the stupidest thing of his life - which was truly saying something.

_YUCK!_

Of course, she defeated him soundly, and that was about the last Toad had ever seen of her until a few months ago. He hoped maybe she wouldn't remember that day, but apparently she had.

"Please, Wanda, you're taking it the wrong way. You didn't even let me answer you."

Wanda stopped and turned around to face him. "Then answer me, Mort. What is it?"

There she was, beautiful as ever, in nothing but a towel. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to nail her, it was just that now whenever they got close, he got nervous. "I don't know, Wanda. You're beautiful, I love you. It's not like before - _I'm_ not like before. I was an ass back then. Really. And I've regretted it for years! I swear I wish I could take it back. You're - you're beautiful."

"Now," she said spitefully. "How about in six months? Then what will you think of me?"

Mort wanted to lay his head down in despair. "I'll think the same thing. You'll always be beautiful. I wasn't loving you for the right reasons then. Now I am."

"Then what's your excuse now? You won't touch me."

He wanted to walk away, but there was nowhere to retreat to, with his clothes in the bedroom. "I don't know," he said weakly. Wanda's searing look didn't dissipate as Mort picked up his old clothes and went back into the bathroom.

Once he shut the door behind him, he sat down on the toilet lid with his clothes in a pile on his lap. Here he was, wrecking life for himself yet again. He wasn't squeamish - which surprised himself. Even knowing that Wanda was pregnant couldn't do anything to how attractive she was. He had been partially afraid of doing something that made her remember the loathsome day, but being too afraid had led her to the same thought anyway.

He got up and got dressed, hung his towel up and left the bathroom for the bedroom again. Wanda's towel lay draped over the chair, and she was nowhere to be seen. He hadn't gotten to the bedroom door, though, before she met him. She was wearing her red, collared blouse, he noticed. He didn't meet her eyes.

She didn't speak for a moment, they each just stood silently in the doorway, but then she said, "I didn't mean to sound so ... mean to you. I really do want to know what's wrong."

"Wanda," he sighed, "It's not what you're thinking. I'm just so afraid I'll do something that'll make you think I _don't_ want to, you know, do things with you, that I end up not wanting to do anything. I mean, I _want_ to, but - Nevermind." He turned away from her. "It's just sounding stupid now. I've just had that stupid day on my mind for so long now. I just keep waiting for me to screw this all up."

"Mort," Wanda put her hand on his shoulder after another moment. "I don't want to live like that." Mort turned around, and Wanda continued. "I don't want us to be afraid of ruining what we have. This fear, fear about what one of us will think or do, can ruin a relationship by itself."

Mort was surprised to see tears collecting in her eyes, but she wasn't crying. "Oh, Wanda, don't be so sad. I'm sorry. I shouldn't -"

She put her fingertips to his mouth. "We shouldn't have. And I'm sorry too. I'd be glad to just forget that day completely."

Mort nearly went weak in the knees he was so relieved to hear her say that. "Really?"

"Yes," she said, putting her arms around his shoulders.

Wanda was laughing a little, and crying, Mort judged by the tears seeping through his shirt.

"I'm not really this upset," she said, pulling away from him. "It's just ... hormones, I suppose."

"Yeah, don't worry about it," he said. Would life ever balance out from these extremes? One moment and his life is ruined, and the next he's in Wanda's arms again with the past forgotten. The past forgotten, thank god.

- - -

. Genosha .

Pietro hadn't meant to stay in Genosha, but once he arrived, it was hard to leave. Magneto was trying to re-establish a form of government, and he asked Pietro to stay. And, even though Pietro knew that the past never ceased to repeat itself in his family, he accepted the offer. If the nation could rise again, and if he could persuade Magneto to listen to him this time ... Pietro though of the blond little girl he left back on the moon. If he could help in the reconstruction of Genosha, he could make a safe place on Earth for his little Luna. Crystal was right, he knew. Earth was a polluted, warring planet. A planet that Pietro was almost ashamed to bring his daughter to. Genosha could be a place for peace. Like Xavier's idea of human and mutant co-existence. Where a 'flat-scan' child of genetically evolved parents wouldn't be ostracized. Genosha could be the place he and his sister had wanted so much as children. Even if it failed again, he couldn't resist the chance to try.

- - -

Closing the balance book and setting it back inside the desk drawer, Mort stood up from his chair. All of his international transfers had cleared, and his bank account looked better than it ever had. He and Wanda weren't really paying for Xavier's safe house, so, after their grocery and personal bills, everything that Mort earned working at the school was theirs to keep. The bulk of his and Wanda's money went into a savings account to gain interest, and they had a small joint checking account. Mort had never had a credit card. Sign your life over to a machine and pretty soon they'd take over civilization. No joke. Although, paying for everything with cash did lead people to stare at him like he was some kind of crook. Which he was. He made close to every dime he had to his name by selling stolen technology.

And he didn't miss a single wink of sleep over it.

The digital clock on the desk read 9:43pm. Late. He left the room and passed through the empty living room to Wanda's bedroom. Well, their bedroom, really. She was sitting on the bed next to the lamp reading. Tantomile lay in her lap. Wanda looked up at him, marked her page, and set the book on the night stand. She smiled.

God, life was perfect. Beautiful Wanda here, smiling at him. Just the two of them (plus the cat), without any Magneto or Strange to disrupt things. Mort sat down next to her, and was about to smile back when he noticed that she wasn't smiling anymore. She was looking off solemnly.

Mort was surprised by the change. "Wanda? What's wrong?"

She shook her head and resurrected her smile to look at him. "Nothing."

Did she have to always say that? It left him wondering what was the matter and why she wouldn't tell him. Was she upset with him? Was she still upset about earlier?

She sighed, which was a sure sign of elaboration. "I don't like living here, Mort."

Oh. So it wasn't him.

"I don't like the thought of bringing the baby home to this house. I don't want to turn the spare room into a nursery. This isn't our house - it's Charles Xavier's. Our child should have it's own house to live in. I feel like a servant of a landowner."

For all of Wanda's planning, Mort had noticed that she hadn't looked at any baby furniture. She'd thought of names, looked at clothes, toys, books, and everything else, but she hadn't even taken the dimensions of the spare room that would become the nursery.

"I've been thinking the same thing," Mort admitted. "If you want to look for a house ... Somers has a few houses for sale," he quietly suggested. "There are a lot of trees and things around there. I thought you might like that."

"You've already looked?"

"Just on the internet. I thought, since we had the money, there was no reason to stay here. Except that Chuck and Strange might object."

"Yes ... they might. But they'll be able to check in on me just as well in our own house as in this one. I would like to see some of the houses you've found, Mort."

She was smiling again.

* * *

I took the name "Maggie" directly out of the last issue (#12) of The Vision and The Scarlet Witch, the second limited series, when readers sent in their suggestions for the name of Wanda's child. "Maggie Simone" was one suggestion that was published (though obviously not used as Wanda ended up giving birth to two boys).

Just giving credit where credit is due.

'Pierce' I found quite the same way Wanda did.


	16. Chapter 16: Spring Changes Part IV

House of W

Spring Changes

Part IV

. One Week Later .

Mortimer had gone to the school early in order to finish his work by the afternoon, when he and Wanda would go out to look at a house for sale. They'd gone to see two others in the past week, but neither were what they wanted. More precisely, although Mort wasn't really sure what they wanted, Wanda hadn't liked the previous two, and so he agreed with her. Even so, the one they were going to today looked more promising. It had a large backyard.

They borrowed Lorna's car to go, as Mort wouldn't take Wanda anywhere on the motorcycle anymore. It had been dangerous before, but it was even more so now that Wanda had the baby. So, Mort drove the sleek, new, silver Porsche into a wooded neighborhood of single houses in Somers. The afternoon sunlight was shaded by the trees that came right up to the roadside, and every few moments he would glace over at Wanda to see if she liked the area. So far, she seemed to be enjoying the scene.

"It's coming up on the left," she said, looking from the number on the last house to the paper she held in her hand.

Mort heeded her and turned into a driveway at a soft incline in a small hill. As soon as he did, they both saw the house. It was tall, with a wood paneled upper story and a brick first story. It was set back from the street a modest distance, the driveway curving before a spacious porch and then winding behind the house. As Mort put the car in park at the base of the driveway, he saw Wanda's mouth open in a small smile.

When they got out of the car, they noticed that the realtor was sitting on the porch, waiting. Hand in hand, they walked up to the porch. Along the length of the driveway ran a little garden that showed the signs of having been colorful once, but now was overgrown with weeds. The trail of scrawny flora led them up to the crumbling front steps. "Ready to take a look inside?" the realtor, a dark-haired woman in her thirties, asked. Wanda didn't answer at first, looking at the exterior still, so Mort said, "Yeah, sure."

The woman opened the lock box and turned the door handle. The front door opened directly into the livingroom. The house was stark, empty of furniture and everything save the large appliances and an impressive fireplace opposite the door they'd entered through. Wanda looked down at the floor. Mort saw her gaze and put his heel into the carpet a couple of times.

"Might be hardwood underneath," he suggested.

"Yes," the realtor quickly picked up. "A lot of these houses do have hardwood floors underneath the carpet. There's quite a lot of cabinet space, too," she went on, leading them into the adjoining kitchen. She was speaking to Wanda, but Wanda was more interested in the view from the kitchen window. The back yard was as weedy as the front, but it was large. "What's the size of the lot?" she asked.

"Three quarters of an acre," the realtor said proudly. "And you have the vacant lot to the back and the sides, as well."

"You could have a garden here," Mort suggested, quietly.

Wanda smiled. "It'll be time to plant things soon," she agreed. The realtor then ushered them into the formal dining room, which looked enormous standing empty as it was. The most striking feature was a bay window overlooking the front driveway and the street. After that, she took them down the hallway. There was a bathroom, a closet, and another, small living space. _'A playroom,' _Wanda thought.

Upstairs, they were met immediately by the doorway to the master bedroom. "You have another fine view of the backyard here," the woman gestured to the wide window. It was curtainless, so Wanda could see directly through to the wooded lot behind the house. If they could buy that lot as well as the house, they could preserve the trees, she considered. The realtor showed them the walk-in closet and pointed out the entrance to the attic, and then the master bath. Mort noticed the shower.

"Then there are the two other bedrooms," the realtor said, leading them down the hall. The two rooms stood directly across from each other.

"One of these would be the nursery," Wanda said.

Mort felt a butterfly race take off in his stomach. "Yeah," he replied.

Finally, the woman took them downstairs to the basement. It took up all the floor space from the house above it and was divided only by several support walls. "This could be a workshop for you," Wanda said, resting her hand on his arm.

Mort looked around. He could see how he'd arrange things. The long wall could be used for separate building spaces, and the short one would do well with a work bench on it. The open floor space meant he'd have room to do about anything he wanted.

The realtor seemed satisfied, but Wanda didn't want to leave before she saw the backyard in person.

Like the front, the backyard was immersed in weeds, but Wanda's smile only widened. "Look at how spacious it is, Mort. It's fenced in by trees everywhere."

Mort knew there was a fairly busy road behind the vacant lot of trees, and the cars would likely show through the bare branches in the winter, but he didn't say anything. It was kind of nice right now, with the leaves and buds on the trees, framing the lot. Maybe, in a few weeks, some of the trees would have flower-like things on them.

They all walked out to the front yard and Wanda told the realtor that they would give her a call.

"I think this is our house, Mort," Wanda said to him when they were in the car.

He hadn't expected her to feel so decisively about it. "You do? Do you want it?"

"I know it'll take some work, but it seems so right. The bedrooms are all on the same floor, and we could even turn the spare room downstairs into a school room." Then she added, by way of explanation, "if we decide to home school the baby."

Mort struggled to keep his jaw from dropping. "You've ... you've thought that far about this?" Did she have a college planned too?

"I was only considering it. Dr. Strange will object, but I don't know if I'd want to send the baby away to a school, even one as close and specialized as Xavier's."

'_Dr. Strange will object,'_ was becoming a household phrase, Mort noted. But, Wanda had a point. It's not like being in school with a bunch of other brats had ever helped him. "That's fine, Wanda, whatever you want. And if you want the house, we can buy it. I liked it too," he said, thinking of the square footage in the basement.

Wanda grew somber for a moment. "We should look into the schools in the area first, and look into the house's history more."

That was true. Mort continued driving, maybe for one of the last times, back to Xavier's house. As soon as they got home, he planned to find out everything he could about the house and the area.

- - -

. Two weeks later .

. Center for Clinical Psychiatry .

"You realize that two of the greatest stresses in life are getting married and buying a house," Dr. Yeager said. She and Wanda were sitting in her office. It was Thursday, the second day of the week she saw her patient.

"I know," Wanda said, unapologetically. "But since we've gotten married and we're having the baby, we need a house of our own. And I feel better knowing that the baby will have a house of _its_ own to grow up in. Besides, the papers are signed and we can't go back now."

"That's reasonable," the doctor said. "How are you feeling health-wise?"

"Better. I haven't had as many headaches this past week."

"That's good to hear." The doctor marked something on her clipboard and then set it aside. "And how is Mortimer taking everything?"

"He acts fine. I think he's growing used to the idea of the baby more, but I know he's still afraid it will look like him."

"His deformity was difficult for him as a child."

"More than difficult. It was hard enough being a mutant, but those with physical mutations couldn't hide it. We've both been ostracized for our mutations, but as long as I could control mine, I could blend in with the crowd. For most of his life, Mort never could. Things will be a little better for the baby, with us living so near the school, but people are still cruel and ignorant."

"Mortimer was abandoned, you said?" she probed.

"Yes, but it was more than just being abandoned by his parents. He was abused throughout his childhood because of his looks. Even when I first met him, he was still treated badly, and it had a great effect on him. He knows even better than I do that if the baby looks normal, it'll have a much better chance at a peaceful life."

"Your own parents," Dr. Yeager said, narrowing in, "from what I understand, didn't raise you either."

"No," Wanda answered her without hesitation and went into the explanation of her parentage. "My mother ran away from my father before Pietro and I were born, and she committed suicide shortly after she gave birth to us."

"Then how do you feel about raising your child, knowing that history?"

"My mother did what she thought she had to. She was trying to keep us safe, though I'm sure she was in despair as well. I don't blame her - she was frightened by my father. But Pietro and I have never really had parents of our own, even though we were raised by two other families, and there was no one there to take care of us when our mutations became apparent. The only thing I want," Wanda said, "is to keep my child safe."

- - -

. Attilan .

Pietro was doing one of his least favorite things in the world. Talking with Crystal.

"You're helping your father rebuild Genosha?" she questioned. "What ever happened to helping your sister?"

Pietro had gone back to the moon to tell his plans to his ex-wife, hoping that keeping her informed would keep her sated. "She doesn't want my help," he explained with thin-wearing patience. "Magneto needs it."

"What about your daughter? She thinks you're going to see her more often now. Would you like to be the one to tell her that you have other things to do?"

"Stop second guessing my actions! I know what I'm doing."

"Don't keep coming back here if you're only coming to get her hopes up, Pietro. My family has pled your case to me, and I've allowed this so far. If you want to be Luna's father, then that's your right. But I won't allow you to see her only when it suits you. She's the child here, Pietro. Not you."

To keep from hitting her, Pietro grabbed Crystal by the shoulders. "How dare you talk to me that way? I know what she is, Crystal. But you forget that she's not an Inhuman. She doesn't have a place here, any more than you have a place on Earth! I'm trying to give her a world, Crystal. I'm trying to protect her!" Pietro pushed her away, but Crystal grabbed his arm before he bolted.

"Pietro -"

"Let go!" He pried her fingers off and ran, leaving Crystal alone.

- - -

318 Peach Tree Rd.

Somers, NY

Squatting on the floor of their new house, Mort pieced together the frame of their new bed. After he'd brought Wanda home from the therapist, they decided that she would stay at Xavier's and finish packing their few possessions (which already consisted of several baby toys and blankets), while he went to the new place and started assembling some of the furniture they'd ordered.

There was no way to know if the baby was developing any physical abnormalities through an ultrasound yet. Wanda was in her ninth week, which was still too early to safely run a diagnostic test, so Mort would have to wait fretfully for at least another two weeks before they'd know anything else. He and Wanda had talked about whether or not they wanted to find out the baby's sex. Mort wanted to know (he wanted to know everything), and Wanda said she'd like to find out too. But his research told him that ultrasounds might be dangerous to the normal development of embryonic cells, so he held back asking Wanda to have one. It was too early anyway.

'Pierce' or 'Maggie' had stuck as the potential names, and Mort keep thinking of them as he put together the bed. Now that the baby had a choice of names, everything seemed much more real. When he saw cribs, they weren't just cribs; they were places where Pierce or Maggie might sleep. Pierce or Maggie might be crawling around on these carpets. Or hopping around, if that's what fate would have.

- - -

Pietro hadn't left Attilan yet, mainly because he'd have to ask Crystal to transport him back to Earth. He could ask Luna, but he didn't want her between Crystal's and his arguing anymore. Crystal. What had there ever been between them? She'd seemed so gentle and soft when they'd first met. So loving. He hadn't seen any of her coldness then, or her willingness to betray him. The only thing between them now was Luna.

"I was looking for you."

Pietro grit his teeth at the sound of her voice. "I've been avoiding you," he said without turning around.

"I came here to speak civilly to you, Pietro. You needn't make it any more difficult."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"You're wrong about Luna. She has a place here. The Inhumans aren't like you and your people." Crystal elaborated, "Luna is a princess here, and no one despises her for a lack of power."

"She'd be a princess on Earth, too," Pietro objected.

"In a mutant world. How can you think she'd fit in there more than here?"

"Because it wouldn't be a mutant world." Pietro finally looked at her. "Genosha as a mutant nation was my father's mistake. I can correct it. Xavier is there with him now, so it's only a matter of time before Magneto gives in to us. It will be a safe haven for mutants, but there won't be any discrimination against the humans. Humans will be free to raise their mutant children there, without having their windows broken in, or having to send their children away to a boarding school. There'll be no better place for Luna than Genosha."

"Except here," Crystal promptly countered. "The problems you seek to amend on Earth don't exist here, Pietro. I wish you the best in your attempt to help the mutants and humans co-exist, but that problem is of Earth, and it has nothing to do with your daughter. She is neither mutant nor human."

"But she's mine. I've lived without her for years. She's almost half-way through her childhood now, Crystal, and I haven't seen most of it."

"Only because you chose not to."

"I know who's to blame! And I know why I did it. And I regret it now. Do you want me to say it Crystal? I was wrong. But I won't make that mistake again. Are you listening to me?"

"I'm listening. I don't doubt that you love her, Pietro. I never have."

"But what? I'm not my father, no matter what you think of me. I won't abandon her. I can't live here, Crystal, and there's no other way for me to see her. Luna has as much right to Earth as she does to your city, because even if she isn't human or mutant, she's not an Inhuman either. You think that just because I want to bring her to Earth that I don't want to protect her. I'd _rather_ have her locked up here away from any other kind of civilization besides yours. I'd like to keep her safe here." Pietro sighed. When he continued, he spoke in a calmer tone. "That's one reason I left her here - because I thought she'd be safe from everything. It wasn't my primary reason, but it was my noblest."

"Then why are you asking for her back now?"

"You know full well that Attilan isn't what you say it is. You have civil wars and more social conflicts that you'll admit. I've watched my father try to keep Wanda 'safe,' Crystal, and I'm starting to see the cost. I don't want Luna to grow up without any freedom the way the Inhumans do."

"You're wrong -"

"I'm not. You know I'm not. You have more freedom than any of your people and even your family, but you can't guarantee that for Luna. Attilan has just as many problems as Earth does. They just don't show because your family doesn't allow them to. I want better for Luna than the Inhumans can offer. You've wanted it too, or you'd involve yourself with other Inhumans instead of people on Earth."

Crystal set her jaw. "You're wrong. Luna is safe her, and she'll stay here. You may see her whenever you want, but you'll see her here." She turned away from Pietro and walked back the way she came.

Pietro didn't feel the impulse to run after her or yell at her, which truly surprised him. She'd denied him to his face and declared her will over his, but he only felt tired. Oddly, too tired to fight her.


	17. Chapter 17: Spring Changes Part V

House of W

Spring Changes

Part V

"_So I'm living in la-la land but at least I'm not living at home"_

- The Dresden Dolls, Bank of Boston Beauty Queen

Three days after they'd officially moved in, Wanda's and Mort's house was beginning to metamorphose as they gradually added necessities and comforts. Their furniture currently consisted of a bed, a bookshelf, a desk, a sofa, and a small table, all of which had been ordered and delivered. After they bought a car they would be able to go out to shop, but that hadn't happened yet, since Mort's car-safety research wasn't satisfied. The nursery, however, still stood completely empty. Neither of them had approached to topic of decorating it. Mort was in favor of being prepared as early as possible, but he was hesitant to say anything, believing that Wanda had a reason for her silences.

For the first few days, they'd kept Tantomile inside to prevent her from trying to find her way back to Xavier's house. When she'd at last been allowed outside, she returned to leave a dead field mouse on the back step.

"I'm sure that's good luck according to someone," Wanda said, standing by the back door. Mort carried the little corpse and dumped it in the woods at the side of their property. Even though he'd killed and eaten mice himself in the past, he delicately wore work gloves while he dumped the corpse, so as not to seem so disgusting.

"Hello there," a bright voice shot out from behind him.

Mort spun around to see a woman walking around the side of the house.

"Oh, sorry if I startled you," she stopped and said, though it was obviously she who was more startled at the sight of him. At his second glance, Mort saw that she was carrying a plate of cookies or some other kind of food. "My name is Elizabeth Talmas, I live across the street from you," she said more reservedly.

"How good to meet you, Ms. Talmas," Wanda quickly intervened and went to greet her. Seeing Wanda, Mrs. Talmas relaxed again and walked over to her. Mort took off his gloves and listened cautiously.

"I've brought you some of my daughter's cranberry muffins," Mrs. Talmas, a blond probably nearing her fifties, said to Wanda.

"Thank you very much." Wanda took the saran-wrapped plate that Mrs. Talmas handed her. "They look lovely."

"Why thank you. Welcome to the neighborhood. Are you moving locally?" Talmas asked.

"Yes," Wanda said smoothly. "We were renting not far from here."

"Well congratulations on your first house," the woman smiled. Mort knew it wasn't Wanda's first house, or second, but Wanda didn't seem offset in the least.

Before Wanda could thank her again, Mrs. Talmas said, "And just look at you," she was looking at Wanda's stomach, which barely gave a hint of pregnancy. "Expecting a little one already?"

To this, Mort looked away, embarrassed, but Wanda smiled. "Yes. Ten weeks."

"Well congratulations again," the she said cheerfully. "Most of your neighbors have older ones, already in elementary school, but there's a young couple, the Bryants, on the next street who don't have any children just yet. There are good schools around here, too. I never found a need to send my girls to private institutions. Well," she abruptly cut herself short, "I'll let you two get back to moving in. I'm right across the street if you need anything." She and Wanda said goodbye, and Mrs. Talmas disappeared the way she'd come.

"That was kind," Wanda said, looking at the plate.

"She's a gossip," Mort responded, crossing the yard to Wanda. "She'll go and tell the whole neighborhood that a couple of muties have moved in." Even though Mortimer was the only one of them who was obviously a mutant, people generally assumed that mutants kept to their own ilk. Mixed marriages were still mildly taboo.

"Let her," Wanda said staunchly. "I don't plan to keep any secrets. Things will never get better for us if we keep hiding." Wanda carried the plate inside the house but Mort went around the other side of the house to catch sight of Mrs. Talmas going into her front door. She'd be on the phone in a minute, he knew, calling up all the other gossips and spreading words that would make his and Wanda's life harder.

A year ago Mort was living in a stark flat in a filthy metropolis, spiteful and alone. Now he had a house in a nice neighborhood with a wife and soon-to-be child. But, for all that, his dream life didn't feel the way he thought it would feel. Wanda was making him forget things. He was forgetting his previous life as The Toad. He was forgetting how people would move away from him when he walked through the streets, how he'd gone to live in the safety of the sewers to keep away from them, how even the sewer workers sneered at him and told him to move on, or, if they got a good look at him, dropped their tools and sloshed away from him as quickly as they were able. He didn't want to forget. Wanda was lulling him into a feeling of security that he knew wasn't real. The world wasn't like this classy little neighborhood, or like Xavier's school, and she had seen enough of it to know better.

The real world, Mort knew, was people torching your house to preserve the "racial consistency" of their neighborhood. It was being beaten by a gang of human supremists. It was kissing ass for anyone who'd give you a meal after a few hungry days on the streets. This image of a happy family and a nice house was as stable as a movie set. All it would take to bring it down would be a good egging.

But, Wanda was happy. And her happiness would be preserved.

- - -

. Attilan .

"Mama, have you ever seen a hummingbird?" Luna asked her mother, carrying one of the books her father had given her. He'd left a day ago.

"Yes, Luna."

"Do their wings really move so fast that you can't see them?"

"Yes they do. They look like little blurs. May I see your book?"

Luna awkwardly handed the large hardback book to Crystal. The hummingbird page was marked. Crystal glanced at the description and then flipped several pages.

"Mama?"

"Yes?"

"Did I ever see birds like those?"

"Yes, of course you did. But you were so little, you can't remember them." Crystal continued looking through the picture-filled pages. Not just at the birds, but at the trees they were in, and the landscapes behind them.

"My father said that some people keep birds in cages as pets, if they have pretty colors and voices. And he said some could talk." Luna habitually said, "my father" to Crystal, as Crystal generally referred to Pietro as "your father" to her.

"They can't talk, Luna, they can only mimic speech by humans."

"Could one of them live here? I'd like to have a bird that could mimic speech."

"I don't think a bird could live here, Luna. It's too great a journey for them." Crystal handed back the book. She knew that wasn't true, but there was nothing else to say. The Inhumans rarely let people from Earth into their city. They'd never allow an animal - even for princess Luna.

- - -

. Maximoff-Toynbee Residence .

It was 8:44pm and none of the other neighbors had bothered them, but Mort found little reassurance in the fact that the fire detectors had working batteries. Long ago, when Wanda was living with The Vision, her house had been set on fire. Mort had learned that fact later on, when she was living in her second house (he'd been distance-stalking her). Wanda of all people should know the dangers, but she seemed to be ignoring their signs. So now Mort was still glancing out the livingroom windows to catch any signs of malicious movement.

"You're making me nervous," Wanda stated plainly.

Unwillingly, Mort quit the window and sat down next to her on their new sofa. He noticed that she had a new book. A thick book.

"What's that?" he asked, even though he didn't really care.

"It's _The Count of Monte Cristo_," she said, folding the cover over so he could read the title. "Would you like to read it?"

Mort looked at the book, and judged it at least six inches thick. Though he wouldn't have admitted it to anyone else, he mumbled, "It's a little long for me."

"We could read it together," she offered. "It's a very good book."

Although he'd never read a novel (a fact he _wouldn't_ admit to Wanda), since she didn't seem patronizing, Mort agreed.

With Tantomile purring between them, Wanda read the first few chapters of the book aloud. She read well, Mort discovered. He found himself relaxing to the sound of her smooth, even voice, and her slight personification of the speakers. The story itself held his interest, but it was less than pleasing. The idiotic main character Dante couldn't see what was in front of his face, he was so focused on marrying Mercedes and becoming captain of his ship. It was exactly what Mort had been thinking about. Losing his wits when things seemed fine and happy. Sure enough, when Dante's back is turned, his mates plot to put him in prison. _That_ was the real world.

When Wanda finished the fourth chapter, she asked if he thought it was a good place to stop. He'd gotten interested in what was happening, but he knew she was probably tired. So he said "fine." Wanda set the book on their temporary end table (an empty, overturned cardboard box), got up and began walking toward the bedroom. When she got to the livingroom doorway she turned back. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

"Alright." Wanda knew he would resume his watch post, but she left without remarking on it.

When she was gone, Mort re-checked the locked doors and looked out the windows again. No signs so far, but he was an expert at sleeping with one eye open.

- - -

. X-Mansion Grounds .

. The Next Day .

'_So now Pietro's taken to snail mail as a means of communication.' _Lorna didn't even think Genosha had any kind of postal system at the moment, and the continental stamp bore proof of that. So, she wondered, this meant he didn't want to talk to her personally? A phone call would have been a lot faster.

The letter was simple. No 'how are you,' or anything beyond exactly what needed to be said. Basically, 'hi, sis, Magneto wants you to come to Genosha and help us rebuild.' Lorna ran her fingers through her hair, momentarily wondering if green was likely to turn grey from stress.

"Hey, Lorna."

She turned around, even though she recognized the voice. Bobby.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing. My brother sent me a letter asking me to go to Genosha to help with things there." Lorna watched his face. Clearly, Bobby didn't approve.

"Genosha? Haven't you had enough of that place?"

"My father's asking for my help."

"I thought you said Quicksilver wrote you."

Lorna's mild expression turned one hundred eighty degrees into a glare. "He sent it saying that my father wants me there."

"So you're going to go? Just because he wants you to?" Bobby looked like he wanted to say more, but not wanting to upset her, he held back.

She sighed. "I know what you're thinking, Bobby. And you're half-right. I'd like to still believe that he had his hopes in me, but I know full well Magneto wouldn't have paid any attention to me if not for my powers. He's a passionate man, and I still admire a lot about him, but I know he doesn't want me; he wants me to supplement his power."

"Then what's left to decide? Stay here."

"And do what? There's nothing left here for me to do. I have to _do_ something. I don't just sit around waiting for things to happen. Besides, people are still too wary of me here. I feel like I should be in a nuthouse. An official one, that is. I don't feel like myself at all here."

"You think going back to Genosha will fix that?"

"Well, I'm not getting much better here, am I?"

"Sure you are, Lorna. Professor Xavier helped you, didn't he?"

"He helped me stop trying to kill people. I want to be back in control of my life. I _don't_ know if going to Genosha will help that or not. But I've never felt more control than when I was there with Magneto. He could help me get that much back, at least. And at least almost everybody there is already dead, so if I loose it, the damage won't be so bad." _Yeah_, she thought, _the island of ghosts who wouldn't be there if I'd done something._

Bobby didn't say anything.

Lorna forced an apologetic smile. "I need some control in my life now, Bobby. Even if it's from another person."

"Do what you need to, Lorna." Bobby turned and walked toward the mansion.

'_Alright,' _she thought, _'so I'm not exactly back on the road to independence, but at least I'm headed somewhere in the general direction, right?'_

- - -

. Maximoff-Toynbee Residence .

Well, no one had vandalized their house overnight, Mort noted. He was standing on the front step, and he had a direct view of Mrs. Talmas' house. Maybe Wanda was right about things. Maybe things weren't the same in a middle-class neighborhood as they were in the slums. Although, no one bothered him less than when he'd lived in the slums or the sewers. Everyone there was an outcast of some sorts, so there wasn't a lot of room for public displays of superiority. The occasional street squabble, maybe, but that was it.

Maybe, he thought as he jumped up to the roof to get a better view of the neighborhood, maybe Wanda was the reason for the apparent lack of hatred. She was educated, well-mannered, and beautiful, not to mention pregnant. Maybe there was some unwritten code that you couldn't harm polite suburban women who were soon-to-be mothers, regardless of race. Hadn't Mrs. Talmas said that most of the neighbors had already had their kids? Maybe Wanda was the youngling of the woman-flock now, and they'd protect her instead of trying to drive her and Mort out.

Yeah. Right. He'd just wait for them to gather their forces.

- - -

Dr. Strange went over later that day after Mort had left for the mansion. Wanda welcomed him civilly, but made no effort to be friendly. She answered his questions about her pregnancy simply. She declined his request to be allowed to talk with her therapist. She refused to feel sorry for him when she saw him hiding his distress, trying to be delicate with her.

"Wanda," he began in his often-used persuasive tone. "I wish you wouldn't try to shut me out this way. I commend you for handling your personal affairs so well these past several weeks, but you must admit that you are dealing with a great number of stressors in a condensed amount of time. I understand you see me as the enemy, but I'm not. I want to help you in any way I can. Don't look so miffed: I don't mean that in a condescending manner. I don't deny that you are doing well - much better than I expected, but you still have much to do. I would like to teach you, Wanda, to use your powers or to better control them."

Wanda had a verbal defense planned at the start of Stephen's speech, but she let it go at his last words, as he'd known she would.

"You want me to be your student," she reiterated.

"I know that you want mastery over your powers, Wanda. I can help you attain that."

She knew he could. He'd made the same offer to her years before. "But, what about my family, Stephen? You know I can't agree to that. I'm going to have a baby. I can't just leave Mortimer and my child, even for that."

"I knew that would be your answer. I no longer expect you to fully devote yourself to me as a student. I'm offering to arrange an apprenticeship that doesn't involve leaving your family. But I will require your complete cooperation."

"I'd need to think about that, Stephen. Will you let me talk it over with Mort first?"

"Of course. I'll talk to you tomorrow." With a billow of his cape, Dr. Strange stood to leave. Wanda saw him out, but her mind was on his offer of apprenticeship. Despite her persistent anger toward him, Wanda knew that he was probably the only person who could really teach her. She'd said she wanted to talk with Mort about it, but she'd already made up her mind.

- - -

Mort wasn't happy when he returned and learned about Wanda's plans. But he didn't disagree with her. Wanda could do what she liked. If it made her happy, it didn't matter what it was, or what the cost was.

There was an unusual loft-area in the basement beneath the stairs. It was only about three feet off the ground, but it was the closest thing to a decent hiding place he'd come across in the new house. He went to the basement, climbed into it and settled in as far back as he could. _'What's your problem, Toad?' _began a self-interrogation. _'Why can't you just be happy?'_ For days, if not weeks, he'd been swatting away a growing feeling of restlessness. Or maybe frustration. When crawling around through the mansion's security system passages or maintaining the precious Blackbird, his mind would always travel back to Wanda. But as soon as he got home, he wanted to get away. Odd word, 'home.' For all his grand plans of making Wanda his wife, he'd never thought much about a 'home.'

Maybe that was it. This stable address thing was unnerving him. The longest he'd lived in a single place had been a little over a year, but even then he'd known it wouldn't last. He'd been living in Somers for less than a month, but this time he knew his stay here would be for a very long time. After all, now he had a mortgage as well as a family to support. It was all very different from his immature vision of he and Wanda living where and as they chose.

Odd, too, how he could live for days at a time in cramped sewer caverns yet only feel trapped while living on a quarter-acre of land.

* * *

Potential spoilers for _The Count of Monte Cristo_ may follow, so be wary if you haven't read it. 


	18. Chapter 18: Lorna Dane

House of M

Spring Changes

Part VI

_Lorna Dane_

It was night. And it was raining. But the rain was really blood, and the stars were really eyes. They were the eyes of the steel goliaths that came out of the sky and began to kill. When she tried to stop them, her powers didn't work. She knew it was because she hadn't practiced hard enough. She couldn't remember what her father had told her about control.

She had to find him. He could help her stop the sentinels. She ran over the wreckage (she couldn't remember how to fly) looking for a sight of him. There was a woman lying on the ground with her head split open in the back. There was a child. No, only half a child. There was a girl sitting in the hallow of two rocks, who had only part of her head, calmly stroking her light blond hair. Lorna was shaking uncontrollably as she ran slowly over the bodies. She was out in the open and the machines were sure to see her soon, but none of them did. For a moment she was worried that her hair was dyed brown again so they wouldn't notice, and she'd be a traitor. But it was green, sprinkled with sticky, smelling, red smears.

It was forever that she was running through the bodies looking for her father. She might never find him. She might never be able to stop the machines from killing. She'd never found him before.

Wait. Before. That's right, she'd been there before. And it wasn't supposed to be nighttime because the sentinels had attacked during the day. This was the dream again. She stopped running and started screaming.

"Stop. I need to wake up. This isn't real - it's the dream again. Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

She pushed her cape away from her neck.

No, not her cape, her bed sheet. Wake up. This is the bed.

As soon as she was awake enough, she sat up and reached for the night light. She slept with a nightlight now, plugged into the wall near her bed, so that she could turn it on after nightmares and remind herself that she was in her room. The dim light turned on, and she mentally repeated the mantra that she'd come to have after every nightmare. "It was the dream again. I'm not really there. It was a long time ago. It's over now, and I'm at the school again. I'm not really there. It's over and I'm at the school again."

She realized why she'd been shaking in her dream when she saw that she'd kicked her coverlet off of the bed. She leaned over to get it, hoping she wouldn't see any dead faces or cracked heads looking back at her from beneath her bed. There were none. There never were - she didn't hallucinate. She didn't hallucinate _yet_. She felt calmer as soon as she put the blanket over her legs to keep out the cold.

There were footsteps in the hallway, and she froze thinking that she might have screamed out loud. But they didn't pause by her door, so she relaxed again. What would happen on nights like this, she wondered, if she went to see her father and she woke up and couldn't tell herself that she was safe at the institute? What would happen when she woke up from the nightmare and it was still going on?

But, on the other hand, what would happen if she stayed here? She'd already been given a room of her own (probably so she wouldn't keep any roommates awake at night). Her friends, even if they still cared, didn't trust her. Who could blame them, when she'd tried already tried to kill them once? Bobby had been right. Xavier did help her before. And now he was in Genosha with her father, who had taught her to control the power she'd never fully controlled before.

Maybe he really did want her there. Maybe he didn't want to ask her because she'd been so dismissive when she found out he was still alive. But, she'd been so distraught all that time he was alive and presumed dead. Why didn't he tell her? Why didn't he ask for her before? It was so confusing. She was going crazy here. If she was going to loose it anyway, she'd rather see her father again.

* * *

What's in the next slew of chapters? As you can see, Lorna sets out for Genosha and the slight hope of finding some mental stability. Crystal may have to admit she was wrong (and possibly even tell Pietro that he - for once - was right). Magneto will have yet another opportunity to be a half-decent father, but he'll probably just screw it up again for his dreams of glory. Dr. Strange and Xavier have a little 'chat'. And finally, yes, you guessed it, Wanda has an ultrasound and we get to find out about the baby! All this and more in the upcoming House of W: Family Tree. 


	19. Chapter 19: Family Trees Part I

House of W

Family Trees

Part I

. Lorna Dane's Quarters .

. 11:42 AM .

Bobby stood in Lorna's sparse room, watching her pack her third and last suitcase. He hadn't said much more than a few sentences to her, and Lorna felt compelled to break the silence.

"If you're going to say something, I wish you would just say it and leave me in peace." Lorna tried not to visibly cringe at the sound of her own words. She never meant to say such cold things. She felt like the words just came out of her mouth without stopping by her mind for approval.

"I just hope you're doing the right thing," Bobby said as though confessing. "I'm not trying to sound chauvinistic, I'm just worried, Lorna. Don't you think that just sometimes you might need someone to watch out for you?"

'_Yes, Bobby, yes. I know I need someone to watch out for me. I'm going to plunge off the deep end and never come back if I don't find someone to take care of me very, very soon.'_ All she said was, "I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. I'd think after years of me telling you that you'd know better than to ask me." She folded another blouse and stuffed it on top of the rising pile of summer clothes.

"Lorna ..." Bobby's ice-hands were on her shoulders from behind. "Be careful out there, okay? Don't make me loose you again." He took his hands away before Lorna's skin started to chill through her sweater.

'_Way to lay on the guilt, Bobby,' _she thought. She steadied her best, classic carefree-Lorna face before she turned around to face him. "I told you to quit worrying -" She saw how worried he really looked and lost her composure and turned away.

"Don't go, babe," he used his gentlest tone. "Stay here with us. We'll help you."

"I know you're trying to help me," she tried fitting in the last of her summer shirts, "but it's not working. I need to see my father again. I don't know why, I just know that if I see him, he'll be able to help me."

"What about your sister?"

"What about her?" She tried closing the top of the suitcase.

"What's Wanda's take on all this?"

"She hates Magneto. I don't care. I like Wanda a lot, but I can't sit here and be the supportive sister right now. I hope everything with her baby turns out fine, but it's too much drama for me right now. If you want someone to look after, look after her for me. She's nuts too. My bet's on heredity." Lorna won the zipper battle with the suitcase and hoisted it off of her bed and onto the floor next to the other two. "I have to go, Bobby. I'll write to you, okay?" Hoping that her lips wouldn't stick to his gelid skin, she put a brief kiss on his cheek. "Take care," she said, wheeling her first suitcase out of her room.

"Yeah, you too." Bobby pulled out the handle on another case and followed her.

- - -

. Xavier Mansion .

. 6:04 PM .

Shi'ar technology was a pain in the ass, Mort concluded. He was trying to supplement the danger room's existing technology with his modified version of The Stranger's technology, but after two days, he was still trying to understand Shi'ar. Not that he minded the extra hours, though. With increasing frequency, he guiltily stayed away from the house in Somers under the excuse of 'work.' Now irritated at the thought and at himself, he pushed his work away.

It was six o'clock. Wanda would be expecting him any minute - if she still expected him, that is. He dropped his tools into the "X" marked toolbox and left it where it was. In the past, he'd laughed at wussy men who said they felt "smothered" by their spouse, and now he was embarrassed to be one of them. Wanda didn't hover. She was a little needy, but that could only be expected, he reasoned. He couldn't pinpoint what it was about her or the house in Somers that repelled him so much. In any case, he wasn't in any mood to go 'home,' so he began making his way to the nearest of the mansion's exits.

- - -

He wondered if he'd see Nightcrawler there, since he knew this was the bar he and Wolverine went to, but there was no sign of either freak that night. Toad sat down at the bar and ordered. The man next to him turned his barstool toward Toad. "Woman or work?" he asked.

"What?" Toad looked at the man, who seemed normal except for the layer of clear, pointed scales covering his skin, and waited for elaboration.

"Is it a woman or work?" the man repeated.

Toad finally understood the question. "Oh. Both, I guess. Work's not the problem." Toad, reaching for his glass, tried to hold back from telling this stranger everything on his mind.

"Married?" the scaled man prodded.

Toad took a sip. "Yeah." Might as well talk, he decided. It wasn't like he'd probably see the guy again. "I don't know what the problem is. I just feel like I want to get away from -" he stopped himself. "Not from her, just from ..." Toad shrugged and turned back to his drink, embarrassed for having tried to explain himself.

"I'm divorced twice," the man offered. "I know how you feel."

Toad grimaced. The man's statement was like a dark cloud of precognition. "It's not like that," he defended. "We're not anywhere near that. I'm just not used to living this way yet."

"Yeah. It's hard to live normal when you're not. My first wife was a human. Talk about a recipe for disaster there."

Toad took another drink. Obviously, he and the scaled man were coming from two completely different directions. "Yeah," he said blandly. "Sorry to hear that."

"How 'bout you?"

Mort rolled his eyes behind his shades. "We're both." He finished his glass, thankful that he hadn't ordered anything strong, and promptly laid his money down. "See you," he said.

"Yeah, good luck," he replied.

It was dark outside. Mort took his shades off and, on impulse, scaled the side of the bar to the roof. The farthest anyone could be from humanity, he'd discovered, was either below the earth or above it. Without a course, he climbed and leapt over the roofs of the city. On top of about thirty stories, he squatted on the ledge of a roof and looked down. Little car lights illuminated the streets like slow-moving circuits through a circuit board, with traffic lights dictating which courses could move and which had to wait. It was meditative, really. When he was younger, he would occasionally stand in the streets at night and watch the shadows that moved across the windows of houses and think about the lives of people inside the buildings. A family eating dinner looked happy. A middle-aged man watching TV was sad. The lights in the building across the street from him now indicated people who were working late. Maybe people who didn't have families. Or people who didn't see their families.

He had a window to be inside now, instead of on a roof across the street from a complex of foreign panes of glass. He imagined Wanda's shadow moving across their window, reading or playing with the cat or eating by herself. Or, he envisioned, there might be shadows on the outside of their window, looking to do some damage while he wasn't there. Mort stood up on the ledge and took a standing leap to the one across the street, and started for home.

- - -

. Somewhere Over the Atlantic Ocean .

. 7:06 PM EST .

Kurt piloted the Blackbird to Genosha. Lorna was the only passenger, at her request. She was in the co-pilot's seat, trying to focus on the flight.

"We'll miss you, Lorna."

Lorna held back a groan. "Please don't do this, Kurt. I have to leave. I'll go completely crazy if I stay at the mansion with all of you. No offense, it's not any of you, really. It's just me._"_

Kurt continued to look out at the darkening sky. "We have all been through some very difficult times, Lorna. Many of your friends at the mansion would understand if you would talk to them."

"They're afraid of me, Kurt."

He glanced over at her. "Are you sure? If that's true, than the professor's ideals have been forgotten. He created the school so there would be a place were mutants were not feared."

"Then most of his 'ideals' haven't been realized in the first place."

"I don't believe that. Your friends aren't afraid _of_ you, they're afraid _for_ you. We're not sure how to help you, Lorna, but all of us wish to."

Lorna looked away from the controls, pulled her legs up and turned toward the window. "You're not making me feel any better. And anyway, I'm hoping that my father can ... I don't know ... show me what I need to do to keep from losing my mind. Even Bobby is afraid I'm losing it. _I'm_ afraid I'm losing it."

"I hope you find what you're looking for, Lorna. But if you don't, please remember that we are still your friends, and even if you disagree with the professor's views, do remember that the school will always offer you a safe place."

"Sure, Kurt." Lorna rested her forehead against the window and closed her eyes.

- - -

. Maximoff-Toynbee Residence .

. 8:21 PM .

Wanda sat on the living room sofa with her porcelain plate in her lap. She'd cooked for two and kept the food warm for a time, but Mort still hadn't come home. Tantomile wandered into the living room and, after a hesitation, leapt up onto the cushion next to Wanda, who was busy with her own thoughts.

The psychiatrist, Dr. Yeager, had lately been focused on Wanda's supposed abandonment. Yeager had persisted that being abandoned shortly after birth, regardless of reasons or outcomes, could leave a lasting effect. She suggested that Wanda felt abandoned by the losses her in life, and that it wouldn't be difficult to take every leave personally. Wanda knew that Lorna leaving her for Genosha wasn't personal. Mort's recent absences, however, led her to wonder.

She didn't know if he was unhappy about her proposed training with Stephen, or the baby, or something else. Wanda set her plate on the box by the sofa put her head back. She began to wonder if there was something to what Dr. Yeager had said. If she thought about it, Mort didn't seem like the type to stay in a committed, _healthy_ relationship. Maybe she did seek out people who would leave her. _"Abandoholism,"_ Yeager had called it. Wanda thought of asking Stephen what he thought about the diagnoses.

'_Of all times to have a baby.'_ Though Wanda wouldn't consider terminating her pregnancy, she wondered how she could possibly improve its life from her own. Lorna seemed decided that mental derangement ran in the family, and though she hadn't said so, Wanda guessed that was the reason for her sister's disinterest in having any children of her own. Besides the possibility of passing on her undesirable traits, Wanda occasionally let doubts about her own parenting skills creep into her consciousness.

'_What did you think, Mother?'_ "Mother" was not a name Wanda had called either of her foster mothers. The honorable and detached name was reserved for Magda Leshner, though she'd rarely spoken to her in the past.

'_You had no way to raise Pietro and me. You were alone. You were frightened of my father. Did you wonder what would happen to us, and how you would keep your babies safe? Or did you already have in mind what you would ultimately do? I know you did what you thought you had to in order to keep us safe. But,'_ Wanda cut off her thoughts, feeling it somehow sacrilegious to tell her martyred mother she'd made a mistake. Recently, a strange yearning for her mysterious mother had come over Wanda. Though it was probably just the pregnancy hormones and the sad similarity between their situations, for the first time, Wanda truly wished she could have know her.

"Oh, Tantomile! Get down from there," Wanda suddenly yelled at Tantomile, who had reached over to Wanda's plate and was hurriedly packing away the food that was left on it.

- - -

. North Salem, NY .

. 8:21 PM .

Wanda would be surprised when he got home with a live plant at this time of night. He thought that she might ask him where he'd managed to find an open nursery, to which he would reply, "I have my resources." He'd actually gone into a restaurant and paid the own fifteen dollars for the plant that was displayed on the counter. He knew that she liked living flowers better than dying ones, and was pleased with his insight.

"Hey, hands off, bitch!"

Toad ignored the sounds of street fighting youth in the streets below.

"Seriously, man, I mean it. Don't touch me!"

That he couldn't ignore. Toad back tracked to the alley he'd just hopped over. A tall kid had a younger-looking kid pressed against the brick wall. The taller one said "What was that racist comment you made? 'Gene trash?' Is that what you said?"

"I was kidding. Come on, man, lay off. I didn't hurt him. It was just a name."

"You think names like that don't hurt? You know what it's like to grow up being called a waste of genes?"

Toad began to back off again. If the taller one was defending a weaker mutant against a racist, more power to him. He had quietly turned away when he heard the sound of skin on skin. More precisely, it sounded like a punch to the stomach. He was walking away over the roofs, but the sound repeated again and again, accompanied by the pleadings from the younger kid.

"God, stop it. I said I was sorry. I'll tell him I'm - uh! God - I'm sorry!"

Toad cringed in spite of himself. He turned around once again and jumped down to the street. "Hey," he said, arresting the older one's attention. The younger one barely looked conscious. "Leave him alone already. He got the point."

"Man, mind your own business, douche."

"I was minding it until you took it too far. Don't make a worse name for us than we already have, alright?"

The tall kid dropped his hold on the other kid and walked toward Mort. "What the hell you got to say about it? You some kind of passy mutant? You let your people be abused by trash like him," he swung his head back to the crumpled kid, "and say we just gotta take it?"

The irony, Toad thought. "If you think that's what I am, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah? Look at you. You're carrying around a freaking flower. What the hell are you?"

Toad was about to tell him exactly who he was. A former member and leader of The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants, as well as a former punching bag. But before he could, the kid pulled back and took a hard swing at him. He hadn't been prepared.

Mort sat up in the gutter of the street and saw the kid advance toward him a few steps. When he came to the plant pot, now laying on its side, he kicked it.

That was not acceptable. That had been for Wanda.

Toad got up. "Listen, you little brat, you think you know how the world works? What good will it do anyone for you to beat the daylights out of that kid?"

"It'll do some good. He ain't never gonna call nobody any names again."

Toad sighed through gritted teeth. Had he ever been so young and stupid? He looked up too late to see his opponent preparing for another blow. But this time, it wasn't with his fist. The kid took him by the jacket collar and breathed "pass out." Then everything was dark.

- - -

. Maximoff-Toynbee Residence .

. 8:34 PM .

As Wanda stood by the trash can, salvaging her cat-chewed dinner, she heard a knock at the door. At first she thought of Mort, but she knew he wouldn't knock on the door to his own home. She was hesitant to answer, being alone and remembering Mort's fears, but she went to the door and looked through the keyhole anyway. Immediately afterward, she opened the door as far as the chain lock would allow.

"Crystal?"

Wanda's sister-in-law smiled. "Hello, Wanda," she said. "Mind if I come in for a bit?"


	20. Chapter 20: Family Trees Part II

House of W

Family Trees

Part II

_. Maximoff-Toynbee Residence ._

"Crystal, I ... I wasn't expecting you." Wanda stood, wide-eyed at the sight of her sister-in-law, who looked as young as when the two had first met. After having seen so many altered faces and forms recently, Wanda momentarily wondered if longevity ran among the Inhumans.

"I'm sorry to come by unannounced like this, Wanda," Crystal said civilly, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "Are you busy?"

"No, please come in." She stepped aside and held open the door. "Is anything wrong? Is Luna alright?"

"Luna's fine," Crystal said, stepping over the threshold with her usual grace. "I was actually looking for Pietro."

"Oh," Wanda closed the door and followed Crystal into the living room. "He isn't here. I'm afraid I haven't heard from him for a few weeks."

"He's the one who gave me your new address. I thought you might be able to reach him."

"I don't know where he is now. He didn't leave me any way to contact him. The only place I can think of would be Genosha, with our father." Wanda moved the cat off of the other side of the sofa and offered the seat to her sister-in-law. "In fact, our half-sister just left for Genosha today. If he knows about her arrival, I'm sure he'll be there."

Crystal hadn't sat down. "Wanda," she said, stopping the current conversation, "are you pregnant?"

"Oh," she blushed slightly. "Yes. I suppose Luna will have a cousin in another few months." She left the room and walked into the kitchen to clear away the dinner that she'd kept warm until then, and to hide the sincere, ashamed blush that was now creeping over her face as she wondered what Crystal was thinking. Did she too wonder if the baby was real?

"Congratulations," was all the Inhuman said. "I had asked Pietro about you, but he's as laconic as ever with me." Wanda noticed the scowl in her sister-in-law's voice.

She though of filling Crystal in; telling her about her marriage and life so far, but that would also involve an explanation about her MIA husband. So she stepped lightly over the subject. "If you like, I could give you my sister's contact information."

"No, that's alright. I'll just head over to Genosha and see for myself." She began walking toward the door, but paused and turned back to Wanda. "Pietro ... did seem concerned about you, Wanda," she said. "Are you alright?"

She smiled. "I'm fine. Mostly. Pietro is always worried about me. Anyway, I knew he'd been spending time with Luna. Is that going well?"

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," she said, but her tone indicated that she was not pleased. "I know he's your brother and that you want to defend him, but the way he raises her hopes is cruel. She thinks he's going to suddenly become an attentive father, but he always disappears on her."

Wanda looked away. "I'm sorry to hear it, Crystal. It must be terrible for Luna."

"Well," she said, "I'm sorry to have dropped in on you uninvited. And Wanda?" Crystal waited until Wanda looked at her. "No matter what goes on between Pietro and me, you're still my friend. I'm just sorry that we met again under these circumstances. Perhaps we should plan a time to get together again, just to talk."

Wanda smiled her first sincere smile that day. "I think that would be wonderful."

"Goodnight, then." Crystal left, and Wanda stood in the doorway. She'd assumed Crystal had her own transportation, and sure enough, there was Lockjaw sitting obediently on the front lawn. She watched then leave and then went inside, locking the door behind her.

- - -

_. The Next Day ._

_. New York City ._

_. 6:09 AM ._

Mort woke up feeling like he was experiencing a major hangover. And worse than that, he soon realized that he was in a gutter. He sat up slowly. There was the alley in front of him. He remembered the two kids, the one kid hitting him ... Had he been knocked out? He shook his head and reached into his pocket for his shades, but found only smashed pieces of them. He stood up and noticed the plant, still on its side, with much of the dirt spilled out onto the grimy sidewalk.

It was morning, he realized, and Wanda might be worried about him. He picked up the plant and tried to slide some of the dirt back into the pot. Then, groggily, he climbed up the two-story building in front of him, one hand still holding the rim of the plant. Thankfully, it wasn't too late in the morning and so the sun wasn't too bright. Even so, the mysterious hangover effects plus his natural - or was it developed? - sensitivity toward light made his head hurt even more. He walked to the edge of the roof and glanced down at the alley where he'd tried to intercede for the young racist the night before. He shook his head once and jumped to the next roof. When he landed, even though it was a small leap, his head spun. It would be a long journey home at this rate. Rather than try to make it back to the house in Somers by rooftop, Mort decided that this was a perfect opportunity to re-acquaint himself with New York's underground.

- - -

Nothing like a little web-slinging before work to clear the mind, the red-and-blue-costumed New Yorker thought. Most of the pre-dawn criminals would have crawled back to their hiding places, so it was just him and the open skyline.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catching sight of someone moving toward the edge of a roof. Probably just someone who lived there, he reasoned, but better to check and make sure it wasn't anything more dangerous. As he neared, he could see the guy swaying as he staggered along, making a beeline for the edge.

"Hey, pal, don't do it!"

With a whoosh of webbing, the wall crawler caught the man by the collar and jerked him back to the roof. He was instantly rewarded with a sock to the mouth.

"Hey!" he looked up to see the man, fist still clenched, standing over him. "Look pal, don't get mad at me. I just saved your life, whether you like it or not."

The man didn't say anything. The only change was that he started to look at the wall crawler as though a man in blue and red spandex wasn't quite a reasonable sight. Carefully, Spider-Man stood up.

"Listen, I don't know what's going on, but there are always solutions. A little detox and you'll be seeing things a lot more clearly."

Squinting against the sunlight, Mort dumbly stood, trying to figure out what his former foe was rambling about. Suddenly, the situation seemed eerily familiar. "You think, you think you saved me from committing suicide? Again?"

It was the "again," that caused Spider-Man to take a closer look at the man standing in front of him. Not tall, not well-groomed, not at all good-looking. Still, he didn't really recognize him from anywhere ...

The man turned away from him and stumbled toward the edge again. "I'm just on my bloody way home. So leave me alone. I'm not doing any damage to anyone."

Wait. The sour-looking guy couldn't possibly be ... Well, if it was, he'd lost some weight. Spidey decided to play dumb and see if the man said anything to reveal himself. "Um, sorry. Are you saying we've met?"

The man grunted. "Forget it. Just pretend we never did. Now if your genetically altered highness wouldn't mind excusing me, I need to be going." Not giving Spider-Man time to respond, he squatted on the ledge.

It had to be him. "Morty?"

Mort grit his teeth at the sound of the hated nickname. He turned on his heel. "It's _Toad_, Spider, not 'Morty.' Although I guess I should be flattered that you remembered me at all. But like I've been saying, I have to get the hell home now." He turned around again and jumped over the side of the building. Spider-Man took a few steps after him and leaned over to watch The Toad brush past startled people and head into the subway station.

So The Terrible Toad King was living in New York. _'Great,'_ he thought. _'One more nut job to watch out for.'_

- - -

_. Hammer Bay Beach, Genosha ._

_. 2:35 PM ._

Lorna walked over the debris of metal, cement, and bone that paved the city. It looked like a street from the underworld to her. Strangely, though, the sight didn't upset her as much as she'd been afraid it would. There were several mutants outside in the cool morning, she noticed, and except for the weird surroundings, their interactions looked completely normal. Several people were talking, some were cleaning up the area around the shelters that served as their houses, and one man was even hanging laundry. Several people looked at her as she walked by. A couple of them waved. She waved back and wondered if any knew who she was. No one stopped to talk to her, though, so she assumed they must have taken her for just another fresh-off-the-boat mutant.

She came to the dunes of the coast and walked down to the shore. The day had already grown warm, so she rolled up her jeans and waded out into the water. Faintly, she remembered the few summers when her parents, or rather, aunt and uncle, had taken her to the beach for a few weeks. Even then, she'd liked to watch the tides and listen to her uncle explain how they worked. Lorna stood for a moment, calf-deep in the bay, and felt the tidal force pulling and pushing her as the tide ebbed and flowed.

She'd arrived in Genosha an hour earlier. She'd seen her father, who looked older to her, but no less dignified. Still, she'd been aware of the awkward tension between them, and so excused herself to go see the shore. Now, lost in thought, Lorna didn't notice another woman on the beach until she called out.

"Good morning," the newcomer said.

Lorna turned around and saw a small, older woman with a pinned up skirt and a pail in her hand.

"Oh, good morning," she replied.

"It seems a little strange to say 'welcome,'" the woman continued, "but it's encouraging to see a new face here."

"Thank you," she said, uncertainly. "My name is Lorna."

"I'm Aglaia." The woman walked closer to her. Lorna felt that she was examining her. "What brings you to this island?"

"I'm ... here with family." Standing near the woman, Lorna could see that her bucket was full of seashell fragments. "Do you collect shells here?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes. I lived along the sea when I was little, and my sisters and I liked to look at them. We always put them back, though." She must have picked up on Lorna's look, because she added, "I know, they're all broken along this shore. But the pieces are still pretty. Besides that, it's always exciting to find that rare, perfect shell. That means that there is new life along the shore here."

"I suppose." Is that what she was here, Lorna wondered. New life?

"I hope I see you around here again," the woman said, continuing her walk.

"Yeah, thanks," Lorna replied, and turned back to the ocean.

- - -

_. Maximoff-Toynbee Residence ._

_. 6:45 AM ._

Wanda was calling the morgue when Mort came in the front door. "Where were you?" she asked sternly, hanging up the phone.

"In a gutter," he said, setting the badly shaken plant on the counter.

Her crossness almost gave way to concern, but she noticed that he immediately began making coffee. "Where you out drinking?"

"No."

"Then what -"

"Look," he snapped his head around to look at her. "I've had a bad night and a horrible morning. Will you stop asking me questions?"

He was instantly sorry he'd said it. Wanda didn't say anything. She just walked away. A moment later, Mort heard the bedroom door close. So much for trying to do the right thing, he thought.

- - -

_. Genosha ._

_. 2:55 PM ._

"Do you think it's good for her to be here?" Xavier posed the question while he and Magneto were playing a game of goh with pebble-sized pieces of metal and concrete on top of chalk lines drawn on the table.

"What do you hope to gain from my answer?" Eric counter-questioned. "You'd have her kept in a white room, Charles. But sometimes it doesn't help to run from the things that frighten us." He added a black stone to a line that was slowly snaking around a single white one . "If she wants to be here, then it's good for her to be here. You think she'd be better protected at your school, but The Avengers tried to 'protect' Wanda, and look at what that's done to her mind. Lorna may act timid, but she's strong. She only needs someone to show her that she is."

"And you think I've held her back?" he asked, placing a stone next to the one under attack.

"You haven't pushed her hard enough. Look at her potential. Your X-Men never forced her to live up to it. You never forced her to master her abilities, and that's why she's this way now. You've always let her fear herself." He added another stone, connecting the advancing stones to an existing line. "And I can't help but wonder if it was because you feared her yourself."

"Eric, you know that's not -"

Magneto lifted his hand to silence him. "How many of your students can come close to your strength? And how many of those who can are still alive? Don't tell me that you didn't see my power in that careful, young student of yours, Charles. Don't try to tell me that you didn't see where it could take her if she learned how to use it properly."

"Stop this. I won't listen to any more. You know that isn't true - You know I've always tried to help Lorna. But she wasn't ready -"

"Who is ready?" Magneto yelled. "The time come for children to learn, whether they feel ready or not. Why else do you think starlings have to be pushed from their nests? A teacher cannot wait until his student feels ready to learn something. He must give them tests, assign them work, and expect them to complete it. I did that for Lorna, and look at how she faired. Did you even recognize her as your uncertain student, afraid to use her own gift?"

"The difference in her skills was remarkable," Xavier conceded. "But she returned to my school with more than just new talents."

"Say what you will. You can't disagree that the means were worth the end. If she can control her powers, she can control herself. She won't look to you for guidance anymore."

"She hasn't for some time."

Their conversation was stopped short by a scream from within the building. Magneto ran to Lorna's room, scattering the playing pieces as he pushed away from the table. Without pausing when he reached her room, he swung open the door. Lorna was sitting up in bed, pushing her sweaty hair away from her forehead.

"I'm sorry," she sputtered when he came in. "It's nothing. I just had a nightmare. I didn't mean to wake anyone."

Eric relaxed when he saw that she wasn't under attack. Behind him, Xavier wheeled himself to the scene. "It's nothing," Magneto said, stepping into the room and closing the door in front of his friend.

"You don't need to stay," Lorna insisted. I'm really fine. I get these all the time."

Eric looked to the ground. "So you do," he said sadly.

- - -

_. Maximoff-Toynbee Residence ._

_. 8:11 AM .  
_

Mort sat in the garage, packing potting soil around the battered plant he'd dragged back home that morning. It had lost more dirt than he'd realized; the thing couldn't even stand up straight. With one hand on the thin middle of the plant and the other scooping handfuls of soil, he tried to steady it enough to keep it from dying. Having something to keep his hands busy took the greater part of his focus off of the fact that, once again, he'd behaved like an ass towards Wanda.

'_She's not going to stay with you,'_ he warned himself. _'She'll find someone else to take care of her and leave your sorry hind in the dust. And you'll deserve it too, you stupid Toad. Stayed out the whole night and all she does is worry about your well-being, then you go and snap at her like that. Lucky she didn't kick you to the curb right then.'_ He stopped piling dirt into the pot and started patting it down to get the air out. _'First person ever cared about you when you didn't come home, and you can't even be respectful to her. Can't even be decent to her. You know all those times when you hoped that she saw you for who you "really" were? Well what you really are is a complete jerk. If she saw anything else she was just imagining.'_

He heard footsteps on the floor above him. He listened to them walk down the stairs, and then he couldn't hear anything for the carpet. But a moment later the door opened. He sat still. For several moments there was silence, until Mort couldn't outlast the tension.

"I'm sorry," he said lamely.

"What is that?" was her only response. He turned around, still squatting, to see her.

"This?" he asked, touching the plant. "I don't know what kind it is. It was just something I picked up for you last night." There was another long silence, then Wanda walked to him and knelt down by the plant.

"It's a rose bush," she said. "I'd wanted one for the garden."

"Oh," he said. "Wanda, I didn't want to make you worry. I got into a fight last night. Tried to save some snot-nosed, racist kid from the beating of his life. I should've kept going."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.

"Are you re-thinking things?"

"What?"

"I know I rushed you into this. I shouldn't have been so -"

"Wanda, no. Please believe me. I'm done acting like a fool. I don't want to be by myself anymore. I want to be with you, and even the baby. I've been teaching myself all about that, about the ... the ultrasounds and everything. I'll know what to do when it's born. I'll be able to help you. I won't leave. I promised I wouldn't leave. I'll make it up to you. You'll want me here again."

"I want you here now, Mort. But you haven't been here."

"I will be. I swear it. I'm sorry I haven't been around, Wanda. It's just, this house and the neighbors and everything ... I don't know. It's so different. It's strange. It's watching some stupid fake TV show except I'm in it instead of watching it."

"You think this is fake?"

"No! That's not what I meant. I meant that all of this just feels so fake. Living in a nice neighborhood, in a house, like we're just ordinary people. I didn't mean you and me were fake."

Wanda seemed to put her attention into the cat, which had quietly followed her and was now tugging at her shoelaces. "I know what you mean, Mort. It's never lasted for me before, no matter how hard I try. Things always fall apart as though they were never real to begin with."

The conversation was not moving the way Mort had hoped it would. "But that's over now, Wanda. I want the fake stuff. I'd rather live in this place with these gossipy, human neighbors and work for the X-Men than be anywhere without you. I won't ever talk about leaving again, I mean it. And soon we'll have the - the baby and you'll be happy here."

She smiled. "I'll try."

* * *

I hope the times made sense in this chapter. When it is six o'clock in the morning in New York, it is two o'clock in the afternoon in Genosha (assuming that Genosha is in the same time zone as Madagascar).

The other note I have is about the Spider-man appearance. Since this story doesn't acknowledge anything in Marvel continuity after "Avengers: Disassembled," Spider-Man probably hasn't seen quite as much drama as he recently has in the current comics. So it makes sense to me that he'd still be out patrolling as usual.

Additional time and travel notes for anyone who cares (or cares to call out one of my probable mistakes):

According to the marvel directory, the top speed of the Blackbird is roughly mach 3. According to the distance from New York city to the capitol of Madagascar is 8706 miles

(presumably in a straight line). So, if Lorna and Kurt fly at maximum speed, they should be in Genosha within minutes. However, since they weren't on any kind of mission (and since it always seems to take a little while to reach the desired location in the 90's animated series), I decided it would take about an hour. So if the Blackbird left the institute at around 12:30pm, EST, she should have arrived in Hammer Bay, Genosha by 2:00pm-ish, allowing for a realistic flight route at a decent speed. That would be 10:00pm-ish in Genosha, by my understanding. So, considering Lorna's jet-lag, it seemed to make sense that she wouldn't be able to sleep at night on her first day on the island, but would be dead tired by the following afternoon. When I first started mapping out this chapter, I was going to have her wake up from a nightmare in the middle of the night, but when I worked out the times, it just didn't make sense. Not to mention, nighttime nightmares are so predictable, I thought an afternoon-mare would be less of a worn cliche.

I will be amazed (but happy) if anyone found that explanation remotely interesting.


End file.
